


I'm On Fire

by differentkettleoffishalltogether



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: (and lots of it oops), (at first), (they're gonna fall in love for real), All of the clichés, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fake Dating, I Need a Date to My Sister's Wedding AU, Mean-ish Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid Angst, Spencer Reid Fluff, Spencer Reid Smut, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, smut in later chapters, tooth rotting fluff too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:42:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 61,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27655664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/differentkettleoffishalltogether/pseuds/differentkettleoffishalltogether
Summary: With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.
Relationships: Spencer Reid & Reader, Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 72
Kudos: 286





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.

I wasn’t at the BAU long before it started to feel like home. The team became my family, pure and simple.

Having been recruited by Hotch at only 22 I’d sort of fallen into the roll of the little sister to the team without really meaning to. It’s not that I was naive, or particularly sheltered even. I know I’m good at my job, and I’d want to be, given how my life’s revolved around it almost entirely. But the team seemed to adopt a protective mindset over me right off the bat.

When I first joined the FBI everything was terrifying. I worked so hard for my PhD, trying to get into the unit, but there’s almost nothing that can actually prepare you for the real thing. Being out in action in the field, working the cases out in real time. Sometimes they had a smooth, easy conclusion followed by loud obnoxious drinks together. Then there were the others, the ones that kept me up for days after and felt as though they owned little pieces of my heart still.

It was JJ that helped the most on those horrible flights back on the jet. Noticing my anxious ticks and uneasy disposition after that first case that had ended badly. JJ had been through it all before, taking too many cases home with her. Seeing her son’s little faces in the kids that we couldn’t help. If I was the baby of the team JJ was the big sister, looking out for everyone.

Morgan on the other hand was the outrageously cool older brother, the one you just wanted to be. Early on he’d helped my weak self with the ruthless fitness regimen the FBI required, he offered to pull some strings and get the test written off. But I couldn’t accept that, there was something in me that just wanted to impress Morgan, and honestly still does. Like somehow if he thought you were cool, then it became true. So I passed the exam, but getting up a flight of stairs was near impossible for a week after.

Emily was probably the fun aunt. The one that would sneak you booze at the family gathering, or take you to your first concert. Emily was actually the one who’d found me, digging around colleges for potential recruits she’d had me picked out for a while I later found out. Insisting that Hotch give me a shot. It was reassuring to know I had someone who would stick up for me from day one.

I was an tech analyst, among other things, sort of a counterpart for Garcia in the field. So it was no surprise to anyone when the two of us hit it off as though we’d known each other forever. We weren’t the same by any means though. Penelope was bold, and bright, and confident beyond measure, where I’ve typically felt like more of a blend into the background type. I’ve always thought of myself that way, despite my achievements. I’d also always believed I was fairly inoffensive, no one I’d met had ever had a huge problem with me, ‘till I got to the BAU that is.

Every rose has its thorn I suppose.

That thorn in my side was Dr. Spencer Reid.

It wasn’t that Dr. Reid was a bad agent, or even a bad person. I hadn’t actually met him before that first day in the conference room, but I’d known who he was for a long time. Before I came along he’d held the mantle of 'youngest ever recruit’ in the unit, while I was studying I’d read any of his work I could get my hands on because of that fact.

I figured it must’ve been some sort of hazing when he looked me up and down that first day I was introduced, and then proceeded to blank me entirely for a full week. Up until I’d wrapped my first case.

The whole team went straight from the jet to the bar. Proceeding to get far too drunk. Spencer joined, which the rest of the team found unusual, and I probably should’ve taken as a sign of things to come.

That case went well, and everyone was in high spirits but Reid had a sour disposition, at least it seemed that way every time he looked at me. After a few too many drinks I went outside in an attempt to sober up in the cold air, unfortunately Reid must’ve snuck outside not long before.

“Ugh” was all he said when he first caught my silhouette approaching him. The night was unusually cold so it had been deserted outside the bar that evening. I wasn’t really sure why it made me nervous to be alone with him like this, the two of us leaning back against the same small area of brick wall, looking out at the cold night.

“Nice to see you too doctor” was all I could muster, I was drunk enough that I let my sarcastic tone leap out, “you can relax, I’m just trying to get some fresh air, it’s too stuffy in there, and loud. I’m not here to talk to you or anything.”

“Well aren’t you a sensitive thing” he responds in kind, at that point I wasn’t really sure if it was a coincidence or if he’d been genuinely avoiding me, but things were starting to clear up.

“I’m sensitive, that’s a fun take on things” I joke, taking a long sip of cold water from my glass.

“And what’s that supposed to mean, newbie?” his emphasis on the last word all but confirms my suspicions.

“Fuck man, what’s your problem with me? Is it because I’m new, or because I beat your stupid record?” I quip. hoping that at the very least it might coax him out of his shell. Dr. Spencer Reid getting angry at me could honestly be better than the nothing I’d been experiencing from him until now.

“What stupid record?” he sounds genuinely confused

“I’m the youngest BAU recruit now?” I didn’t know why else he could be so sour. He’d never met me before last week, and since he’d ignored me that first day I’d done all I could not to step on his toes. So if he had a reason to hate me this much, it wasn’t something I’d done on purpose.

He takes a few moments to respond, raising his eyebrows and considering the information. He chuckles. He fucking chuckles.

“That’s funny.” he says, his voice leveling out, “I didn’t peg you as funny newbie” that word sets something off in me again. Something about it is dismissive, or belittling. Before I could fight back he starts to move, maneuvering around me and heading back inside. A little too tipsy to think of anything constructive to say, I just mutter “Fuck you Spencer.”

He swings open the door, as he walks inside he just says “See you Monday, Newbie” without even looking at me.

And that was only the beginning.

—-

“You know I’m just trying to make sure you get enough rest sweetheart. There’s no need to get so defensive!” it was far too early in the morning to be dealing with this call. Since joining the BAU a few years ago this was a standard call from my Mom. Equal parts well meaning and over-bearing, and generally asking far too many questions.

“I’m not getting defensive Mom, I get plenty of rest, my job is just very important to me and you know that.” I knew she was right to be at least a little worried, this job was consuming, and in all honesty I wasn’t sure how people like JJ were married and still here. It seemed like an impossible feat.

“Fine sweetie, how are your co-workers doing then? How’s Penelope? Give her my love” she loved Penelope, I think she thought that Penelope tethered me to the normal world, and in a way she was right. She kept me sane, and fun, and made me eat pizza and do face masks once a week at least. Even when I didn’t think I wanted to.

“Pen’s great Mom, everyone’s good. Well, the usual ones get on my nerves, but I’m fine.” As I say it I glance across at Dr. Reid, the only person who’s also in as early as I am most days. I’m not sure if he can hear me but he’s tapping his pen so loud on his desk that it takes all of my energy not to walk across the bullpen and stab him with it.

“Y'know what Mom, I’m actually just after getting to work and it’s a busy day so can I call you back later?” I chance, getting her off the phone is always an ordeal.

“Fine, fine, I’ll let you go. But wait one last thing!”

I knew what was coming. It was always coming.

“Are you seeing anyone, Margot’s been wondering too, just thought I’d check in?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose and trying not to scream down the line, I just sigh out the frustration instead.

“No Mom, believe it or not, I’ve made no progress on that front since you asked me all of 3 days ago.”

“See you are being defensive!” she snaps

“I gotta go, bye Mom. Love you!” I say, hanging up quickly before dropping my head down into my arms on my desk, resting like that for a few moments in silence.

Hearing Garica chuckle behind my ear I perk up and spin around. She’s holding a small paper cup of coffee and hands it to me. I look at it confused, “Sorry about the paper, I couldn’t find your mug in the cabinet” she apologizes, looking over at Dr. Reid and rolling her eyes. Now I know he can hear me from his seat, he takes that moment to sip from my mug and place it gently back on his desk.

It hadn’t taken long for him to start toying with me. It was always stupid childish things. Things I couldn’t get genuinely annoyed at, that would give him far too much satisfaction, knowing he was getting to me in any real way. This was one trick he liked to play if he got into the office before me, he’d take my mug and make his coffee in it, just to spite me I guess.

“Why does he even do that, it’s so stale” she said, just a little louder than normal to make sure he could hear. Garcia and Reid were still good friends and team-mates but she liked to stand up for me when she could. He liked to avoid me as much as possible so he’d usually go to Garcia before me if he needed help with something. Even when the two of us were out in the field together. Which was obnoxious but it was just another thing I’d gotten used to over time. And as long as it didn’t interfere with the case I just forced myself to let it go.

“I know it’s such low grade bullying isn’t it?” I shot back with a chuckle.

“So I’ll take it that was Mommy dearest” Penelope gestures to my phone. She knew my Mom, and she knew about her general overbearing energy. I let out a groan thinking about the call again, and the calls that were to come.

“Isn’t it always Mommy dearest?” I joke

“So she’s still on your ass about the wedding then?” I’m sure Penelope was almost as sick of hearing about it as I was,

“Margot’s getting married in like 4 months now, and every time Mom calls there’s just some new hometown loser she wants to set me up with Pen. It’s fucking exhausting” I take a sip of the coffee she made me, savoring the bitter taste. She sits down on my desk for a moment, leaning in.

“Honey, did you ever think that if you got out there and found someone, she wouldn’t be on your ass at all?” I don’t want to think about that, about how she’s completely right. All I can do is let out another small groan and lean back down onto my desk.

“Too early Pen” I say, it’s muffled by the desk but she gets the message. Hopping up and heading to her own office as some more people start to arrive for the morning.

Leaving me alone to make a start on my paperwork that had built up throughout the week. Fridays were usually slow like this, giving me a little too much time to think. I couldn’t shake the thought that my Mom and Penelope were actually right. Maybe I was a bit too invested in the job, and maybe that was a pretty big factor in why my last relationship imploded but I wasn’t about to admit that to anyone.

—-

After that the day crawls by, thankfully no cases pop up so the weekend might actually be free. Trying to make sure I clear up all of my paperwork takes a little longer than I’d hoped and leaves me alone in the bullpen. It seems like everyone’s gone home by the time I’ve packed up and I’m ready to leave. Which wasn’t as out of the ordinary as I’d like it to be really. Everyone else seemed to have somewhere to be on a Friday night.

Waiting for the elevator to arrive my phone started to ring, I could see my Mom’s caller ID on the screen. If I just let it go I know she’ll call back later, may as well get it out of the way. I take a deep breath in anticipation before I answer.

“Hey what’s up?” I answer, stepping inside the elevator as the doors ping open.

“Hi sweetie, I’ve got good news! Do you remember David? That lovely boy, he helped out your Father that summer in high school?” I know what’s coming and rub my temple, trying to stifle the headache I know is coming. As I answer a hand slides between the elevator doors, popping them open again.

Dr. Fucking Reid walks in, and he looks about as happy to see me as I am to see him. I make eye contact and look away just as fast, willing him away with my mind. “Yes Mom, I remember him, why are you telling me this?” I already know the answer but I’m fed up, she still sounds excited when she responds.

“Well you won’t believe it! I ran into him at the market this morning and I thought you’d like it if I passed on your phone number to him, maybe for the weddi-” it took all I had not to shout into the receiver, and maybe I would’ve had the elevator been empty.

“Mom! Jesus!” I have to reign myself in, but I have a bad idea, “You know what, I’m actually sorted. I’ve got a date lined up now” I’m not sure why I said it with no real plan in place. She sounds even more excited than I’ve ever heard her.

“Oh my, that’s amazing sweetie! That was fast, I can’t believe you found one since this morning, it’s someone from work so?” she assumes, and I’m just not thinking fast enough to correct her.

“Mmhmm, yeah” I’ll figure out the logistics later I rationalize.

“Oh! Is it that boy you’re always on about, the one who teases you?” she asks, and her voice is full of joy, and it makes me feel horrible that I’m lying already, and that I’m going to let her down.

“Yup, that’s the one, look Mom I gotta go, I’ll talk to you later! Night” I blurt out so fast it has to be obvious I’m nervous.

I can hear a stifled chuckle behind me. Fuck. How loud is my phone speaker. Could he hear that. Surely not. But this elevator was completely silent. The doors open and I have to stop myself from running to my car at top speed. Instead I walk out just a little faster than normal, turning around to shoot him a small wave goodbye. And he’s got this devious smirk on his face that makes my stomach turn.

Sitting into my car I pull out my phone to text Garcia immediately.

I’m on my way to yours right now. It’s urgent.

——

Traffic’s light so it takes maybe 10 minutes before I arrive at Garcia’s place. My mind’s racing and my body takes me there on autopilot. Why did I say any of that, why did I even answer the damn phone. Why did I wave goodbye to Spencer, I never usually did that. Maybe that’s why he had that look on his face. Maybe he was just thinking of something funny that happened earlier and it had nothing to do with me at all. That was something he’d do to mess with me for sure.

How was I going to walk this back with my Mom, she was just gonna have more questions that I couldn’t answer. Fuck.

Garcia buzzed me up and her door was open for me by the time I got up the stairs. This little purple apartment had become my second home. It was where I spent most of my evenings off, laughing on the same sofa I was collapsing face first into right now. Garcia nestles in beside me and runs her hand over my hair, “Hey sweet pea, what’s happening? I don’t want to sound too concerned but you’re not giving me much to go off? Are you dying, is there drama? You’re going to have to tell me what’s so urgent before I burst a blood vessel?”

I let out a muffled, “is drahmuh” into the pillow, Garcia shakes my shoulders.

“Sit up babe, damn!” I have to heave myself out of the pillows, sitting upright on the sofa beside her, clutching one of the pillows in my arms.

“It’s drama” I repeat,

“Well, out with it then, you know I’ll take all the drama I can get! Spill, spill” she rushes me along. I’m already apprehensive, Reid’s her coworker too, but if anyone would understand why this was such an issue it was gonna be her.

“Okay, I’m after doing something stupid and I think I really need your advice” I cringe already, thinking back to the elevator, throwing out my words faster, I continue the story, mostly trying to get it over with, “my Mom called again when I was on the way out tonight and she was trying to set me up with this guy, and Reid was there, and I got all flustered, and I told her I had a date already” I throw my head down into the pillow again.

“Wait why was Reid there?” she looks like she’s trying to fit puzzle pieces together and she’s getting nowhere, “And what’s the drama?”

“Shit Garcia, it was in the elevator and it was all quiet, and maybe he heard the call, maybe he didn’t but he had this fuckin’ look on his stupid face” I can’t shake the smug little smirk, it’s burned inside my eyelids. Garcia’s face falls in what looks like disappointment.

“Ugh Y/N! That’s nothing chill out, why does it matter if he heard your call? I know you guys are all weird but none of that is any of his business anyway!” she shoo’s her hand in the air, dismissing the whole situation.

“No Garcia, it is his business now” I have to close my eyes when I say it, I can’t look at her “I told my Mom that he was my date, well, I didn’t say his name or anything, she assumed it was someone from work and so I just agreed, and then she suggested that it was him and then I fucking panicked Pen, I fucked up so bad. What do I do?”

I finally opened my eyes to look up at Garcia. She was sitting in pure silence, pursing her lips in what seemed like contemplation. The puzzle pieces finally slotting together. It’s as though a light bulb goes off behind her eyes and she bursts out in fits of laughter. Doubling over on herself before finally taking a few breaths to calm herself down. I’m honestly not sure why she finds the whole thing so funny, she know’s how needlessly annoying he’s made my life, she’s seen it first hand and heard me talk about it over and over again in this very apartment over pizza.

“Garcia, this is not fucking funny! This is serious!” I try to calm her down, I need advice not whatever this is.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I love you dearly. But this isn’t funny, this is hilarious. It’s like you’re Sandra Bullock in some mid-90’s rom com. I love it” I don’t love it, in fact I hate it. I nearly snap at her but pull myself back.

“Pen, come on, help me out. What do I do with this, how do I fix it?” I plead.

She stops laughing and pulls out her phone, “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m going to order us a pizza, and we’re gonna sort this thing out together, sound good?” I just nod and collapse back into the sofa. I think I feel better now that I’ve gotten it out in the open.

—-

Penelope makes us tea while we wait for the pizza, she keeps lemon & ginger in her cabinet for me, just like I keep mint for her. The warm mug and the steam calm me down. After a few minutes alone to think about it I start to figure it out a little better. I figure I can just lie to my Mom for a while, it might suck but I can pretend for a bit and then make up some excuse as to why he can’t come closer to the time. Then I can just bring Garcia instead and everyone’s happy. I’m about to float my plan to her there’s a knock on her door. I was so caught up that I hadn’t really noticed quite how starving I’d gotten. Leaping up of the sofa to grab the door.

I swing it open but it’s not the pizza guy. Somehow it’s the opposite of the pizza guy, my worst nightmare is on the other side of the door. He must notice my eyes blow completely wide. “Y/N!” he says, more of a statement than a question really, like he’s telling himself that he’s actually seeing me in the doorway. I’m not as gentle.

“What the fuck are you doing here Reid?!” I can’t even disguise my anger. He seems a little flustered, like he’s got absolutely no idea how to proceed.

“Um, uh, is Garcia here? I can, um, I can just come back later?” he swallows hard and shakes his head, before I can agree and tell him to get lost Penelope races to the door, pulling it wide open.

“Nope, that won’t be necessary Doctor! Come on in, you’re right on time sweetheart” she waves him in and he walks past me, his demeanor changing almost instantly. He’s smug, like he’s won whatever battle this was. And I hate it. Though he’s still as confused as me despite the newfound attitude. Reid sits down on the sofa, right where I had been sitting. I bite my tongue and sit on the opposite end.

“Are you okay Garcia?” he asks with a genuine concern, “What’s going on, what was the emergency?”. He’s not stupid, he knows she’s not in danger now that he’s here. But he wants answers. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him this confrontational with anyone, well anyone but me. The entire time I’m staring her down as she sits in the armchair opposite the two of us. My keys are in my pocket and my car’s right outside. I could just jump up and make a break for it. Escape.

“You know what Doc, you won’t believe it but I’m not actually the one with the emergency” she takes a beat, and I’m starting to think that I might understand why people murder other people after all these years, “Y/N has something urgent she needs to talk to you about” she’s silent for another moment, and she almost looks giddy, “Actually Spencer, you might already know a little something about the matter already, now that I think about it” she smirks, and it’s pure joy.

My keys are in my hand ready to bolt when the doorbell chimes again. “Oh, that’ll actually be the pizza this time, if you two will excuse me” she hops up out of the armchair and races to the door, leaving the two of us alone in a horrible silence. The tension is almost too much, I want to speak but I really have no idea what to say, or how to even start saying it. But he starts.

“Y/N what’s going on, I feel like I’m out of the loop here? What am I missing?” he asks, and there’s something uncharacteristically genuine about the way he says it, but he can’t turn to look at me as he speaks. I almost want to let my guard down and just have a conversation but I can’t force myself to do it. “Shut up Reid.” is all I mutter, folding my arms across my chest.

He turns sharply on the sofa to face me. “Hey Y/N. Believe it or not I’m about as happy as you with whatever kind of Parent Trap situation Garcia’s got going on here. But from what I’m picking up on you’ve got a problem and I’m supposed to be able to help with it. So do you want to tell me what’s going on or not? I can just go?” I can see that there’s an anger bubbling right below the surface, threatening to burst. I know I shouldn’t but I let him stew in silence for a little too long and he jumps up off the sofa.

“Y'know what, typical” he mutters, rolling his eyes as he says it, “this is all about you.” he throws his bag over his shoulders and begins to walk towards the door. Something in me just snaps.

“All about me?! Are you fucking kidding? I’ve been tip-toeing around you for years, ever since I joined this damn unit!” I shout as Garcia comes back into the room, pizza box and plates in her hands.

“So, who’s hungry?” Garcia asks, trying to break the tension, or pretending there’s no tension at all. Reid shakes his head in disbelief and rubs his temple before he speaks again, “Actually I was just gonna head out” he gestures to the door, “I’m clearly not wanted here so I’m gonna leave you guys to it.” Spencer makes a move to leave but Garcia grabs the strap of his shoulder bag, yanking him back ever so slightly before he really has the chance to escape.

“You are going absolutely nowhere kid” She points back to the sofa, “get back there” she glances to me, staring with far too much intensity. “You too, sit.” Her voice is more stern than I’ve ever heard it, even while we were on a case. I can’t help but obey her command and I sit back down on the sofa in silence. Followed by Reid, clearly processing the same uneasy feeling of a serious Penelope.

She sits opposite the two of us again. “Y/N, Spencer, I love the two of you with all of my heart, albeit separately, and I would die for either one of you. But you’ve got to chill the hell out!” she says it like she’s had it bottled up forever. The tension that releases from her as she says it looks euphoric.

She opens up the pizza box and lays it on the coffee table and takes out a slice for herself. Taking a bite she leaves the two of us in stunned silence. Once she finishes the mouthful she turns to me specifically, “Y/N you tell him, or I will.” dead serious. And the feeling in my belly is like I’ve just fallen down an elevator shaft.

My stomach is in knots as I turn to Spencer on the sofa next to me. His face is puzzled and I think I might be able to make out pure terror in his expression. I don’t know that I’ve ever been looked at like this before and my stomach screws up tighter. I have to take a deep breath and I can’t believe I’m about to say it. “Fuck it” I have to take another breath almost immediately so I just have to force the rest out, “I don’t know if you heard the call I was on while we were in the elevator earlier?” I look up to gauge his reaction and I can see his face relax, and worse than that, one corner of his mouth lifts into a sort of smile. It’s a look of pure smug satisfaction and I think I might scream. I have to close my eyes because I really don’t think I can look at that face as I say the next part.

“My sister is getting married in a few months and my Mom’s been on my ass to find a date for the wedding and she keeps trying to set me up with these losers, so I fucking panicked, and I told her you were my date.” by the time the sentence is out my eyes have screwed up so tight it feels like I have to pry them open.

He sits in silence for too long. Thinking, maybe?

“So I’m the boy who teases you then?” he grins. So he did hear. And he did laugh. He looks far too self satisfied. Now he knows he’s right. He knows you’ve talked to your Mom about him, that he’s gotten in your head. I can tell from his smile that he’s savoring the moment. Mostly because I can’t slap the smug smile off his face I drop my head into my hands. In an effort to disappear I guess.

“So,” he says, taking a moment, “is that all you wanted to say then?” he asks, lighthearted and obnoxious, back to his usual self. I snap back to reality, shooting my head back up.

“What do you mean is that all?” I throw back genuinely shocked,

“Is that all you had to say Y/N? Can I go now? It’s a long bus ride home y'know” he smirks but makes no effort to move. He can’t possibly be making me do this.

“Well no, obviously!” I stutter, “I mean, are you, will you, uh?” I can’t bring myself to say it out loud. He leans in on the sofa looking directly at me, refusing to break eye contact.

“Did you have something you wanted to ask me Y/N?” I just want to smack that fucking look off his face,

“Fuck you Spencer Reid” I almost whisper under my breath, but Garcia snaps me back to reality.

“Hey!” she looks at me, stern again, “Ask him.” it’s not a question, or a suggestion, it’s a command.

“Fine okay” I scrunch my eyes up again, “Will you come to my sisters wedding with me as my fake boyfriend?” I curl up into myself as I say it, I can almost feel the bile rising up from my stomach. Like I’m having a biological reaction to the whole thing.

Reid crosses his arms and sinks back on the sofa, like he’s performing the act of thinking. He’s considering my offer to make me squirm.

When he finally speaks he says “Well I would Y/N, but I really fail to see what’s in it for me” he’s after getting cocky now.

Garcia pipes up, excited, “Oh, Oh! I know! I have an idea!” she interjects, “Spencer remember how a while ago, back after your apartment flooded you were all all worried about your antique books and prints and stuff?” he nods, “Well Y/N could digitize the collection for you as a back up? I know you’re a technophobe? C'mon Y/N, you know you could do that no sweat, and it would take you a lifetime alone Spencer?” I really don’t want to admit it but she’s right. Even I knew Reid was adverse to any technology that wasn’t vital, but it was your specialty. And maybe that was a good trade off, a job like that would be near impossible for him to pull off without help. I take a glance over at Reid and he seems to have had the same train of thought as me. He lets out an exaggerated sigh and relaxes his posture.

“Fine, I guess that’s a fair trade. I’m in.” he resigns and I almost can’t believe it. I’m barely processing the whole conversation as he sticks his hand out to me, I’m confused for a second before I grab it and shake it firmly. Condemning myself to whatever’s about to happen. And it’s not the time to be thinking about it but maybe this is the first time Spencer and I have ever touched? But I shove that thought away.

Garcia’s positively beaming and she’s not even trying to hide it. “Now it’s like you’re both in a Sandra Bullock movie, oh, but you’re Hugh Grant maybe?” she points to Reid.

“Don’t push it” I shoot in her direction, taking a slice of pizza, now that my anxiety stomach has sort of passed.

Once the pizza’s been eaten in near completely awkward silence Spencer stands up off the sofa. His unsure demeanor has returned and he looks nervous. “I actually should get going this time” he says but Garcia pipes up to protest,

“No, it’s not even late!”

“It takes me a while to get back home, thank you though Pen. For… this?” he gestures to the whole living room, “Night” he waves. He’s almost made it to the door before I stand up out of my seat. I’m not really sure what comes over me, maybe it’s gratitude, maybe it’s guilt, or maybe I’m just exhausted.

“Wait Spencer. Let me give you a ride home?” I ask and it’s like it’s not even me saying it .

“Thanks, but I think I can make it home just fine” he dismisses, and there’s an antagonizing tone in his voice that snaps me right back to our usual rapport.

“I’m trying to do a nice thing here, fuck! Just let me do something nice!” I snap, and he throws his arms up in surrender.

“Fine alright, if it’ll make you feel better”

“Fuck you Reid” I mutter under my breath and I sort of hope that he does hear me really. If he’s gonna be hostile about this I can be too. I give Garcia a hug goodbye but I’m going to scold her for this whole thing later.

—-

I lead the way outside and climb into my car, Spencer hops into the passenger seat and it feels as strange as always to be alone with him. Especially because it’s not an accident, and it’s not in work. Maybe this was a horrible idea. He seems like he’s unwilling to break the silence, so I just get it over with.

“Where the hell do you live man? I’m gonna need directions.” I say, as deadpan as I can muster, which probably isn’t all that intimidating.

“Sorry, yeah, so you’re gonna want to turn on the ignition” he teases. I definitely wasn’t intimidating enough.

“Don’t push it” I say, turning to give him a cruel stare, he just reacts with a smirk, that same one from the elevator earlier.

“Oh, I’m pushing it?” he asks, feigning disbelief

“I’ll kick you out of this damn car” is all I can think to say. He barely responds, he just lets out a soft chuckle. I want to ask 'what’s so funny’ but he speaks before I can get the words out.

“I can’t believe you talk to your Mom about me” he continues to laugh. That’s enough.

“You know what Reid, of course I have! I work with actual murderers on a daily basis and somehow you’ve been the only real source of friction in my life since I joined the BAU!” He stops giggling a little, but not entirely, he looks like he’s making an effort to contain himself.

“I’m sorry. I guess I just never knew I got to you like that” he still finds the whole thing amusing, but I sure as hell don’t.

“Directions, now” I demand, looking straight out the front windshield.

“Fine, keep going straight on this road for a while and I’ll tell you when to turn” he says, finally playing nice.

The two of us drive silently for most of the journey, the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually we arrive outside his building, and it’s nicer than I thought it would be. But I have no idea what I was really basing that on. For some reason it hadn’t occurred to me that Dr. Reid lived in an actual home, I had pictured him sleeping upside down in a cave maybe, or in a cryogenic chamber with all the other life-like genius robots.

“So,” he says, breaking the silence, “When is this wedding?”

“4 months from now, in and around” I respond, matter of factly. Spencer nods, taking it in.

“Alright, so I’ve got 4 months, in and around, to learn enough to convincingly pass as your loving boyfriend. Doesn’t sound so difficult.” he jokes, his tone harsh and sarcastic.

“Look Spencer, I know this is insane and honestly kind of stupid. But in all seriousness, you can back out right now if you’re not on board with whatever this is. I’m telling you this is the last exit ramp.” I try to say it with sincerity, giving him a genuine out if he’s not comfortable with the weird set-up that Penelope pulled on us both. He thinks on it for a moment and shakes his head.

“So how are we gonna do this?” he asks, and I really thought he was going to back out. So I don’t have an actual answer.

“Well, I uh, I haven’t really given a plan much thought. How about I come over and start working on some of the stuff you want digitized like Garcia mentioned and I can use the time to give you the footnotes on my life?” I suggest, at least that would make it easier to knock things out all at once. Rather than having to spend even more of my free time with Reid than necessary. He looks content with the improvised plan.

“Alright, sounds good.” he undoes his seatbelt and opens the door to hop out of the car before turning back to me, “Are you coming inside or what?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N and Spencer start to put a plan together.

“Are you coming up or what?”

The question was still ringing in my ears. It caught me completely off guard. ‘Up’ as in up to Spencer’s apartment? Where he lived? I knew he lived somewhere in theory, just like I knew deep down that he wasn’t made in a test tube. 

Without noticing I’ve undone my seatbelt and I’m hopping out of the car, following him around to the front door. I guess I am coming up.

Spencer’s apartment is more cosy than I thought it was going to be. It’s warm and lived in. It’s not big, but I think that might be what makes it homely. Something about the way he behaves had me thinking it would be fully decked out in stainless steel or glass or something. But it wasn’t pristine, it was messy. 

There were books bursting from the shelves that lined the walls of the apartment, along with books laid open over nearly every surface in the place, it looked like he was in the middle of reading all of them, and honestly, I didn’t doubt it. Maybe I’d misjudged him. He even had some photos of what looked like his family, and maybe friends, even some of the BAU, lining his walls or propped up on his mantle. He had little trinkets and souvenirs on his shelves too, evidence that he’d been around the country for reasons other than a case. I would never admit it to him but there was a real charm to the place.

Once we got inside he took off his bag and suit jacket, tossing them on the desk just inside of the door. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, and he seemed to pick up on my awkward energy.

“You can make yourself at home” he said, his confident streak remaining. I had no idea what to do with that. What would even make me comfortable in Spencer Reid’s apartment? I took a seat on his sofa and just sat with my hands resting in my lap. Really not even sure where I should look without feeling like I was invading his privacy. Even though I wanted to. I think it was morbid curiosity, looking for clues on who this man might actually be outside of the BAU. What I really wanted to do was stand up and walk around, soaking in every bit if this place as if it would help me decipher our messy relationship.

He returned to the living room a few moments later, two mismatched mugs in his hands. He places one in front of me on the coffee table. I pick it up and take a sip. It’s lemon and ginger, how did he know what kind of tea I liked? I held the mug in my hands inhaling the steam in an effort to relax. When I look up he’s watching me, arms folded across his chest.

“So, how does this thing work. What’s the game plan?” I honestly have no real idea. This evening really got away from me, I was still expecting to snap out of it and wake up in my bed at any moment.

“Well I can’t say I’ve ever been in a Sandra Bullock movie before either so this is uncharted territory for me too” I say with a chuckle, trying to ease the tension. Even a little. I can see him crack a small smile but hides it almost instantly, his face hardening again.

“My sister, Margot, she’s getting married in like 4 months.” I can feel myself tense and I shake out my shoulders, I have to remind myself that he’s agreed to this already, “Fuck it, I’m just going to be honest with you. My Mom’s mostly freaked out that I’m too attached to this job and that I’ll just never find someone again.” I shouldn’t have said again, fuck. I hope he didn’t pick up on that. Who am I kidding. “Even though, I’m not sure I care if I do or don’t?” he doesn’t say anything, like he’s waiting for me to continue. I know I’ve shared a little too much already but I keep going.

“Margot’s 2 years younger than me, I introduced her to her fiancé Philip, we met in college, he’s a sweetheart. But since they’ve gotten engaged Mom’s gotten exponentially weirder. I think she’s convinced I’m fully going to die alone, as if that would be the worst thing that could ever happen? Anyway, she’s been trying to auction me off to all these guys, using this wedding as an excuse. I’m not sure how much of that phone call you actually heard earlier but Mom was trying to sell me on this guy, David, and I just… snapped.” I look up at Spencer and he unfolds his arms, leaning in ever so slightly coaxing the story out of me.

“David, he uh, he worked for my father for a while back in high school, filing documents and stuff, busy work mostly. He used to make out with me when he was at our house after school, but then he’d ignore me in the halls the next morning. I know it’s because I was a pariah back then or something but I didn’t want to think about it today and I just got worked up. I shouldn’t have let on that you were my date, I was just going to ask if I could bring Garcia or something, and I’m sorry.” I cover my face in my hands, “I’m insane, you can back out if you want to.”

I can hear him move from his spot on the opposite side of the sofa, he takes my wrists and gently pulls my hands from my face. He looks into my eyes, “I’m in this now Y/N, what do you need me to do?” he asks, and there’s a genuine earnest in his voice that I think I’ve only ever heard a handful of times. And it’s never been directed at me.

“Okay, well we’ve got a few months before you ha–, wait, fuck!” I throw my head back, there’s already a complication, “shit” I curse under my breath. His eyebrows knit together, sitting upright.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

“I forgot about my Mom’s 50th, it’s next month. They’ve got this whole huge party planned back home in upstate New York. I’ve gotta go and they’ll probably want to meet you, or they’re gonna have a load of questions for me at least. I can try and get you out of it I’m sure”

He gets that cocky look again, he shakes his head “I don’t know, I’ve always liked a bit of competition” he reclines back into his corner of the sofa, taking a satisfied sip from his own mug before speaking again. “You know, if I’ve got to learn enough to pass as your boyfriend in a month, surely that means you’ve got to learn enough to pass as my girlfriend within the month, no?”

Oh god. What have I done, why didn’t I think this far ahead. “I mean, yeah I guess you’re right.” I had to remember he was doing me a favor. I had to get over myself. “Okay, if you’re sure you’re up for that?” I ask, and he nods, and I think he looks excited, or maybe he just finds the whole situation funny.

“If anyone’s up for the competition it’s you” he says, and I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or a dig but I nod in agreement.

He takes another sip of his tea, collected and relaxed. I can’t help but notice how at ease he is when he’s in his own surroundings. I’m so used to seeing him sitting at a desk surrounded by paperwork, or combing through file after file in the make-shift office in a small-town police station, usually flustered or anxious, or antagonizing me whenever he wasn’t. This was a different Spencer. Completely in control, at ease.

“Alright, shall we get started then, we can’t really afford to waste any time can we?” he was actually sort of right, so I nodded. It was only now occurring to me that I’d have to share parts of my personal life with him if I wanted this plan to work. We already knew the basics about each other, I’d read his file when I started at the BAU, I’d read everyones. And I feel like it was safe to presume he’d done the same.

His eyes bore directly into mine as he leaned forward, I think he was enjoying how uncomfortable I must’ve looked.

“How about I ask you some rapid-fire questions and you have to answer 'em?” he asks, and it’s as good of a plan as any, and I can’t think of any other suggestions, so I nod.

“Okay, shoot.” I say, unsure and nervous, so I brace myself. I’m just grateful that he’s making my life easier rather than harder for what feels like the first time since I met him.

I really should’ve known better.

He leans in, “So Y/N, first question, when did you lose your virginity?”

I almost choke on the mouthful of tea I just took, that can’t be what he just asked, and he looks like he’s savoring my shocked expression.

“I uh, I don’t think you need to know that?” is all I can get out.

“Really? You think that’s something your boyfriend wouldn’t know about you?” he’s right, but I didn’t want to admit it outright.

“I feel like I sort of already hinted. It was that same guy David, I was 18, he was 19. We had sex on the couch while my parents went out one evening. I kept my bra on the whole time, he came, I didn’t. It was all very standard stuff.” I wasn’t sure what compelled me to add that last part. I think I was giving in to the open honestly thing. “So what about you Doc?” I challenged.

He didn’t seem embarrassed, or even shy. “I must’ve bloomed little later than you” he admits with a soft chuckle, “Vivian Stewart, I was 21, she was too. It was the last semester of my last PhD and I figured I must be missing out on something. And I sure was” he smirks to himself. “I came, she did too, 3 times. I did a lot of research ahead of time” he mirrored my story and I rolled my eyes. It was hard not to feel a little impressed but I tried with everything I had to stifle it so he couldn’t tell. I wish it didn’t make me feel something but it did. I gulp down the mouthful of tea that’s been sitting in my throat.

I have to shake myself back to reality. I can’t give him the satisfaction of throwing me. “My turn.” I command, “When was your last relationship Dr. Reid?” I ask, “I mean like, serious one, not like hook-up” I clarify before he can ask. He thinks on it for a moment.

“I’m not sure what you classify as fully serious, but I guess it was this girl, Rebecca, we dated for a while when I first joined the BAU but it didn’t work out. What about you?” he flips it back.

“So that was what, like 6-ish years ago?” I ask, he just nods.

“Mine was like 3 years ago now I think. I met this guy Nathan on my first week of college, we dated for like 4 years. He moved here for me when I got accepted by the BAU.” I had to stop myself from delving into the detail. It was a long time ago now but it still hurt. “Long story short, the hours were demanding and they got in the way more than I would’ve liked. We ended up splitting a couple months after I got the job.” I tried to play it off like it wasn’t one of the more devastating things to happen in my life. But something told me he’d registered that, so he didn’t push.

His energy picks up and he looks at me with a grin, but there’s something a little sinister behind it. “I’ve got a more fun question for you.” he leans in closer to me, “Y/N, when was the last time you got laid?” I just looked at him in shock. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, I can go first if you really need me to?” his voice didn’t waver,

“Fuck you Reid, I know when it was!” I snapped back at him. I did have to think back a little farther than I’d like to pull up the memory.

“Met this guy in a bar when I was out with Pen one night, we went back to his place and hooked up.” I say as deadpan as I can make it.

“Well that’s not very exciting is it?” he jokes, “Did you at least cum that time?” I know he’s just trying to rile me up, but I answer anyway.

“As a matter of fact I did” I earn back a little of my confidence.

“I’m so happy for you, but you did manage to avoid my initial question” fuck “when was this exciting night of yours Y/N?” he probes, like I really, really wished he wouldn’t. I could lie, but I’m sure he’d be able to tell. I cringe before I can say it.

“About 8 months ago” I mutter, just low enough for him to hear.

“Sorry, did you just say 8 months ago?” He nearly shouts in disbelief, he seems to find it funny.

“Hey fuck you Spencer!” I go on the defensive, “When was the last time you even got laid?”

“Like two and half weeks ago” he says, confident, and still laughing, “Wait wait, when was the last time you got yourself off? I know you’re not waiting 8 months!” he giggles and I think I could kill him. I know I kept giving him outs but was it too late for me to just get up and leave?

“I’m not doing this with you if you’re just gonna make fun of me Reid, I get enough of that at work” I get out, my voice is serious but I’m trying to hide how awkward all of this is making me feel, and I don’t know that I’m doing a very good job.

I can tell that’s gotten to him, he relaxes and eases up on the giggling. “Look okay wait Y/N. I’ll stop, I’m not actually trying to make fun of you. I was being serious, I think stuff like this is important if we’re gonna have to be comfortable around each other enough to seem like a real couple. Plus, it’ll just help break the ice?” he shrugs. “But you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

I soften, because I agree, even thought I hate that he’s right. “Fine” I collect my thoughts, “2 nights ago I’m pretty sure.” I regret it almost instantly, but breaking the ice is supposed to feel awkward.

“Same here actually,” he chuckles, “what’d you do?” I’m so startled by the question I almost forget how to answer.

“I, uh, my, my vibrator? I just felt like uh, I watched some…” I still can’t force out a whole sentence. It’s not like I was always awkward about sex or anything, I could talk to Garcia, or honestly probably any of the other team members about it. But with Spencer it didn’t feel as comfortable. He still sat calmly, smiling just a little.

“Same here, 2 nights back, but with my hands I guess. I wonder if we were doing it at the same time?” he mutters the last part gently and my head goes a bit fuzzy. My eyes drift away from his face and settle on his hands, the mug he’s holding looks so tiny with his fingers wrapped around it, I wondered how they’d look wrapped around my-

“Okay I think that’s enough for one night, don’t you think?” I jump up off the sofa and turn, mostly so that he doesn’t catch the blush thats creeping from my neck up to my cheeks. And because I don’t know what I’ll say, or regret saying, if this conversations continues on its current trajectory.

“Sure,” he says, standing up next to me, and I want to move further away instantly, “you’re probably right, and it’s getting a little late now anyway” he glances at his watch. Ushering me back towards his front door and opening it up. Before I can walk out he lightly touches my shoulder to turn me back to face him, and I wonder if he can feel the heat radiating from every part of me.

“So are you free next Friday after work?” he asks, and I’m so flustered I almost forget why, I just nod. “Perfect, how about we come here again and we can dive into preparing? You could also make a start on getting these onto a hard drive?” he gestures to the antique looking hardbacks adorning the shelves.

'Sounds great!“ I perk up, feigning enthusiasm, "See you then!”

“Well, see you Monday morning actually Y/N” he smirks as I walk out the door. Fuck, he was right.

I really hadn’t thought this through.

——

The weekend was a bit of a blur. I decided to try and put some useful information into a document for Spencer. It felt strange to try and condense my life into as few pages as possible. I knew Reid had an eidetic memory, and nothing would necessarily overwhelm him. But I also knew that he was someone that the team relied on to fill in a lot of the gaps in the rest of the our knowledge. So I felt bad about dumping a load of information on him, especially considering it was a favor he was doing for me.

I’d complied the majority of my life into a 15 page document and printed it out. Hopefully that would address most of what my family could guerrilla attack him with. There was also something unsettling about the imbalance. I was going to give him so many of the intricate details of my life in a little file, whereas all I really knew about Spencer was what I’d taken it upon myself to learn about him throughout the past few years.

I’d read all of his work while I was in college, given how he was the gold standard of getting into the BAU at a young age, I wanted to know who this guy was. I think I’d pictured something different. And I couldn’t deny there was something enticing about finally getting to know him after all of these years of working together. Maybe this could actually be fun, or interesting at least.

—-

I arrived early on Monday morning. I thought I was first into the office as usual but Garcia was sitting in my desk chair waiting for me. The second she saw me walk in she tensed, she must’ve known we were the only people in this early.

“What happened! You’ve been avoiding me all weekend?” she asked, and she was right. I’d drafted enough texts to her, trying to explain what the plan was, mostly without wanting to admit that she was right. Maybe I was stubborn.

“Alright okay, I drove Reid home.” I admitted, dropping my bag by my desk. She rolls her eyes at me, dramatic as always.

“Well I knew that already Y/N damn! What happened next?”

“Fine, we went into his apartment and talked for a while. Trying to sort out the details, get a handle on things I guess?” I said, unsure of how much I should actually give away about our conversation.

“What things!?” She shouts, standing up from my desk,

“I don’t know Pen, like logistics and stuff, I still haven’t decided how I feel about that little stunt you pulled on Friday night!” I let my frustration get the better of me, and maybe that’s why I haven’t talked to her. It could also be because I know she’s able to read me like a book and I’m not even sure how I feel about this whole situation.

“I call bullshit.” She counters, “I know you were relived as hell when I sorted that whole thing out. You would’ve had anxiety tummy all weekend if I hadn’t called Spencer!” I just go silent, she was right. I’d gotten so caught up in the whole, 'how to have a fake boyfriend’ that I’d almost forgotten about how stressed I was about Spencer hearing my call in the first place.

“Okay, shit” I sigh. “Maybe you were right Pen. We’re actually meeting up again this Friday after work to make a plan for the next while, so I guess that’s progress?” I shrug, trying to play it off like this whole situation doesn’t make my stomach flip.

“Ohhhhh! So like a date?” She probes, her enthusiasm rising drastically.

“Oh my God Pen no! Like an appointment at best” I diffuse the situation

“Ugh that’s no fun” she says, not even trying to disguise her disappointment.

As if on cue Dr. Reid walks through the double doors into the bullpen. Both Garcia and I wave, overall awkwardly, but making an attempt pretend like things were completely normal and like nothing had changed since the last time we were all in the office together.

Penelope heads to her office as the bullpen starts to fill up quickly. Less than an hour later though Garcia’s back at my desk and there’s a new case that needs the teams attention in Boston. I follow her into the conference room and wait for the rest of the team to join. Spencer follows a moment later with 2 cups of coffee in his hands. I can see my mug in his hand and my automatic response is that he’s messing with me. But he places my mug in front of me in the circular table before taking the seat next to me, listening to Garcia’s briefing. I don’t know if he’s ever sat next to me in this conference room, at least not by choice.

I barely had any time to finish my coffee before I have to say goodbye to Garcia and hop on the jet to Boston.

—-

The case was grueling. More so than usual. It was wrapped up late on Thursday night and the team decided to fly back home first thing on Friday morning. I was exhausted. Even if there was enough time to get sleep each night it wasn’t like I got any. Whenever a case got on top of me like this it made it hard to rest, or get it off my mind at all until it was wrapped up. So even though it was over, that didn’t mean I wasn’t exhausted.

Hotch gave the team the rest of the day off, given that we have until submit our paperwork by Monday. I wasn’t sure if Spencer’s invitation from the following week still stood. I didn’t want to ask, partly because I was so tired, but also because I was scared. I wasn’t about to show up at his house in an effort to have a heart to heart, or hand him a condensed version of my life story on a manilla envelope if he was as drained as I was.

Standing by my desk I packed up everything I’d need to get my paperwork done over the weekend, I was just about finished when Spencer snuck up behind me, perching himself on the edge of my desk. “So, you almost ready to go?” he asks, like it’s the most obvious question in the world. I couldn’t really hide my surprise.

“Oh yeah. That’s fine, I mean, if you’re still cool with that?” I ask, and I hate how flustered I sound, like he makes me nervous.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” He chuckles, standing up straight.

“Cool, gimme a sec and I’ll be good to go.”

I pack up the rest of my stuff quickly and we make our way out. There’s something that feels a little eerie about the two of us being in an elevator together alone again. It was a different kind of awkward to how it felt a week before hand. It almost felt like a kind of tension rather than a hatred or a rivalry. Either way we rode down in silence.

Once we got to the basement Spencer walks out of the elevator and walks straight to my car without having to ask. I unlock it and he hops into the passenger seat. Like this is a natural interaction. Something we do all the time. And I don’t hate it as much as I thought I would.

“So,” he says, buckling up his seat belt and breaking the silence, “do you know how to get to my place from here or do you need directions again?”

“Well I’ve got to turn on the engine first” I tease, hoping he picks up on the reference to our last car ride, he chuckles like he does.

“Are you hungry?” he asks

“Starving.”

The delivery guy get’s to Spencer’s apartment at almost the same time we do.

—

Once the food’s been demolished the two of us finally sit on his sofa, the same sides as the week before. “So, shall we get back into this?” He asks, sitting forward slightly to pull a notebook out of his satchel on the floor. It’s small and lavender, and it’s got a pen clipped into the spine. He cracks it open and flips to a specific page.

“Sorry, what’s that?” I ask, pointing to the book, he looks confused,

“They’re my notes?” he says, like it should be obvious

“Your notes?” I ask,

“My notes on you.” he smirks, again like I’m silly for even asking.

He had notes on me? He had a whole notebook on me? What was even in that thing?

“You’ve got notes on me?” I ask, my hands reaching out to grab it, but he retreats faster than I can catch him. “What have you got in there that’s so serious?”

“Nothing.” and his tone’s a bit too stern and I don’t really want to push it when he’s being so uncharacteristically nice to me.

“I’ve actually got this ready for you” I pull the file out of my own bag and toss it to him. “I’m not sure exactly what you need to know but that should be the majority of it at least.”

He opens it up and glances over the the pages. It takes him all of 2 minutes to get through the whole thing. It feels unsettling that he’s taking in a boiled down version of my life while I’m just sitting on the opposite side of the sofa. Trying to avoid the attention I pipe up.

“Um, hey, maybe it would be a good time for you to show me where to make a start digitizing your books over here?” I stand up and make my way to the shelf. He jumps up off the sofa and walks toward me, visibly excited.

“That’s actually a great idea, I thought that the theses from my degrees could be a good place to start, since I’m pretty sure they’re not backed up anywhere.” he guides me to a section of the book case by the window. There’s a series of leather bound hardbacks, the same gold font embossed on the spines. I recognize all of them, pulling out the first one.

“This is my favorite” I say without thinking about it and he does a double take, clearly thrown.

“You’ve, uh, you read my work?” he asks, completely puzzled. I’m sort of proud that I’ve managed to make him this awkward, and I nod.

“Mmhm, back before I joined the BAU actually. Before I really knew you” I regret saying the last part, it comes out a little meaner than I really wanted it to so I back track. “Spencer, I read all of your work while I was in college, you were like the gold standard. I don’t think I slept more than 2 hours a night throughout my PHD because I was just trying to get as much done as you.” and his face softens at the admission. But it takes him a moment before he responds. Leaving the two of us in silence a little too long.

“I had no idea” is all he says.

“I think this one was best” I say propping up the one in my hand, “you get a bit cockier as you move on” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "but I’ll start with all of these I guess” I grab the matching books and stack them in my arms. Walking over to his desk and setting up. Glancing at the clock it was only 7pm so I decided to just make a start.

Spencer didn’t contest. Letting me just get settled at his desk, I pull out my laptop and begin work on transcribing the first volume. After a few minutes he silently places a cup of tea down beside me and goes to sit on the sofa. The time rolls in quickly after that, each time I look up at Spencer he’s carefully combing through the file I’d given him. Re-reading it and making little markings in his lavender notebook. I’m not really sure what I put in there that was worth making a note on but clearly he was reading between the lines on some things. That little notebook was like a profile of me.

When he seemed like he’d finished writing he pulls out his phone, scrolling through it aimlessly like I’d never seen him do before. It made him look so normal. His eyebrows knit together as he’s looking at something on his screen and he stands up. Making his way over to me at the desk and shows me what he was looking at.

“Who’s this?” he asks, “This guy you’re with?”

I recognize the photo instantly. It’s from a few years earlier, Nathan and I on the beach, my head resting on his chest. He’d taken it while we were on vacation celebrating our anniversary. That was about a month before I got into the BAU, I had no idea that was going to be our last anniversary. I gulp down the emotions that it stirs. I’m mostly over the whole thing by now, but looking at old photos like that, photos of happier times, it can still sting.

“That’s uh, the boyfriend I was telling you about last week. Nathan, we broke up not long after I joined the BAU?” he nods, but he’s smart, and I kind of figure he already knew that.

“Ah alright” he takes out the hardback and jots another note down. Maybe he’s trying to get a read on me.

“What are you doing?” I gesture to the phone,

“It’s research, do you not think that if you and I were really dating that stalking your social media profiles would be on my agenda?” he’s smug, and he’s right. But I guess I just didn’t expect it from him.

“Well that’s not really fair now is it? I can’t reciprocate, you’ve got no social media presence whatsoever!” he finds that funny, letting out a deep chuckle and tucking his phone away in his back pocket.

“Maybe so, but that imbalance is hardly my fault. Besides, you’ve read all my dissertations apparently…”

“Bastard” I joke, slamming my laptop shut and throwing a pen from his desk at him so that it lightly bounces off the top of his head.

“Hey, there’s no need for violence Y/N!” he rubs the spot beneath his curls, “Maybe it’s time you took a break actually?” he says, sitting himself back down on the sofa.

I was reluctant to admit it but he was right. My eyes were starting to go a little fuzzy after looking at the screen for so long. I stand up and stretch my arms out above my head, feeling my spine stretch out after sitting for so long, letting out a low groan. Spencer waves me over to the sofa and I join him.

“How about we go back to basics?” Spencer asks with a small grin, and I can’t help but let out a long sigh.

“I thought I was taking a break, no more questions” he just laughs at me,

“Relax, you’re not that interesting, it’s just a simple question.” he states, and I’m not sure if I’m supposed to find it funny or offensive

“Ugh, fine, shoot”

“Well, actually it’s two questions” he corrects, “what’s your favorite movie, and what’s your favorite snack?”

I’m confused mostly by the fact that it actually is a simple question, I was expecting something a lot more contentious, but also because he looks eager to know the answer.

“I’m not really sure what my favorite movie is to be honest, one of them is Night of the Living Dead?”

He nods to himself, and jots it down in the notebook again, “Alright, I can make that work” he stands up off the sofa before turning back to me, “and snack?”

“Peanut butter cups I guess?” I respond and he grins ear to ear, which is a completely new sight, and I like it way more than I thought I would.

“Perfect, gimme 2 minutes!” he leaves the living room and wanders towards the kitchen.

Spencer returns a few minutes later with a DVD, a packet of peanut butter cups , and a thick knitted blanket gathered in his arms. He drapes the blanket over me and gently places the peanut butter cups on top of it before popping the DVD into the player and sitting down beside me. I’m not really sure how to process any of the situation. Am I about to watch a movie on Spencer Reid’s sofa? Sitting next to Spencer Reid?

“I… I, uh, thought you were just asking for your notes?” I ask, pointing at the notebook resting in his lap. He picks it up and throws it onto the coffee table.

“Sometimes I find experience is the best teacher, don’t you?” he asks before pressing play, “And besides, it should keep you quiet for a whole 96 minutes” of course.

I can only nod in agreement, I’m not really sure what I’ll say if I try to speak. I get myself cosy under the warm blanket and we watch the movie in near silence.

Once the credits roll Spencer finally speaks up, “I actually went to see a screening of this last month downtown, there was this little old horror movie fest-” I cut him off without really realizing, I’m just strangely excited that we’ve genuinely got something in common.

“Holy shit, I was there!” I say, more enthusiastic than the situation calls for.

He laughs at my excitement, “Well, I guess we have more overlap than I thought, that should probably help with the whole charade.” he stretches his arms up over his head and let’s out a small, gentle yawn. I’d been enjoying myself more than I thought I would, or would ever tell Spencer, that I’d almost forgotten that we’d both been on a case for almost every waking moment of the past week. I really should feel a lot more drained than I do.

I was just after midnight when I suggested that I head back home. I offered to take some of the books home to work on throughout the weekend but Spencer insisted that I just work on them whenever I came over again. I sort of felt like I should thank him for the evening when I was on my way out the door, or give him a quick hug, no that felt wrong. In the end all I could really muster was a lousy, “goodnight” and a meek wave on my way out the door before I drove home. And couldn’t get to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up over on tumblr @differentkettleoffishalltogether


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The BAU celebrates a closed case with a little night out

I needed a bit of space from the events of Friday night. Something about the way Spencer had behaved made the whole situation feel almost friendly. Like he might actually enjoy hanging out with me. And I didn’t hate hanging out with him. If I was being honest with myself I never really had. When I joined the BAU I wanted him as a friend, from what I knew about him, and how similar I thought we were, I really hoped we’d get on, so it was a curveball when that never happened.

There was a weird affirmation in how he behaved when we were alone now. Where he used to avoid me completely at work he’d started to level out. Not like he’d sit beside me on the jet on purpose, or seek me out for help or advice or anything. But he was warming ever so gently, whether he had realized or not.

I needed the space to think about it, or maybe to not think about it. But that space never came. Late Saturday night, or pretty much Sunday morning, I got the call to come in, there was an urgent case in Louisiana that needed us. I had to haul myself out of bed with all of my energy and grab a go bag from my closet. I couldn’t honestly say I’d gotten enough rest over the weekend but that was one of the things you signed on for in the BAU.

When I arrive on the jet Spencer’s the only one there. Sitting, slouched by the window, his head resting gently propped up in his hand. His eyes are closed, resting and he’s so serene looking, until I drop my bag in the seat opposite him and his eyes creak open.

“Y/N?” he asks quietly, moving in his seat, stretching his arms out above his head. There’s something in me that takes note of how endearing he looks. We’d been on cases like this together but I’d never really seen him like this outside of his living room, bleary eyed, sleepy.

“Sorry Spencer, you can keep resting” I whisper and he shakes his head, letting out a prolonged yawn.

“S'okay, I should probably be alert for the briefing anyway” he smiles softly, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand. Just looking at him made me want to take a nap.

“So what did you get up to with the last,” he looks down at his watch, “27 hours and 35 minutes?” I’m not really sure if that was a joke or just Spencer being Spencer but I let out a chuckle anyway and he gives me another sleepy smile, so maybe it was a joke.

“Not a lot to be honest, I did watch Dawn of the Dead last night though, might try and get through ‘em all again” before he can respond Emily and Hotch make their way onto the jet together and the others soon follow. The easy atmosphere between me and Spencer dissipates and the barriers start to build again. Back to our regularly scheduled programming I guess. Maybe it was just the sleep deprivation that had his guard down.

Hotch launches into the briefing and the case is urgent, and the remainder of the ride is too tense to really get any decent rest.

—-

In spite of the shaky start the case was actually one of the good ones. That didn’t mean it wasn’t stressful and difficult, or that I didn’t loose sleep over it. But it meant that we saved anyone else from getting killed before we caught the unsub, which was really a best case scenario in this job. The ride back to Quantico on Friday was almost a polar opposite of the journey out. Morale was high, cases were rarely wrapped in such a neat bow.

Hopping down into a window seat I was content but exhausted. JJ and Emily got on after me, cracking jokes about one of the cops we had to work with. A particularly cute young guy. Sitting down on the other side of the aisle Emily shouts across to me.

“Hey, Y/N, what did you think about that Officer Jennings?” she wiggles her eyebrows as she asks the question eliciting a giggle from JJ. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed him.

“He wasn’t too bad” I say, suppressing a grin

“’Wasn’t too bad?’ That’s all you have to say?” Emily mocks, I’m a little too tired to be discrete so I concede,

“Okay fine, he was hot as hell, kind of distracting to be honest” I cover my face as I say it, almost embarrassed, I knew the other girls talked about this stuff, and maybe it was because I was the youngest, but I felt like I wasn’t qualified to talk about boys, or romance, or sex.

“Who was distractingly hot?” Morgan’s voice pipes up. I’d blocked my view of Morgan and Reid getting onto the jet. “Well, other than myself” he jokes, flashing his flawless smile. Spencer behind him is almost stone-faced.

“Y/N here was just talking about Officer Jennings from back at the precinct” JJ clarifies. It feels childish but there’s something embarrassing about the boys being in on it too.

“He had something about him I guess?” I say, and I know what it was. He had this mop of light brown curly hair, you could see yourself running your hands through. And cheekbones that looked as though they could slice you open if you grazed them. I knew they reminded me of someone, but I wouldn’t let myself admit who.

“He sure did” Emily winks at me and turns to continue her conversation with JJ.

Without asking Reid takes the seat next to me. Like it’s nothing at all. And it might be nothing at all but the seats opposite me are free, and the seats by Morgan, Hotch, and Rossi are free too. It could be that he felt like I might be lonely sitting on my own, but I liked to catch up on sleep when we flew so it wasn’t that big of a deal. Or I’m overthinking as usual and it really is nothing. He doesn’t say anything at all. He pulls a book out from his satchel and begins to read, perhaps signaling that he doesn’t want to talk. So I take him up on it and let my head fall back on my seat to get some sleep.

I’m out for almost the whole thing, I really must’ve needed it. When I wake up my eyes don’t want to open, like they’re glued shut and my mouth feels as though it’s full of cotton wool. Just because I could sleep on planes doesn’t mean that it was necessarily good for me. I go to move my neck and realize I’m resting on something, something warm that moves as I stir. Shit.

I let one of my eyes open and I can see Spencer’s hands, trailing over the pages of a different book to the one he’d started earlier. His fingers trace along the lines on the page with fluid graceful motions. They’re sort of hypnotizing, and pretty even? I have to shake the thought from my head. But his fingers stop moving completely and he closes the book, laying it in his lap. I can feel him move and suddenly sense his breath moving the hairs on the top of my head. Is he looking at me?

“Y/N?” he whispers, barely audible. He must know I’m awake, no use pretending I hum in response and lift myself up off his shoulder. I don’t want to look at him.

“Sorry Reid, I didn’t mean to, uh” I trail off, pointing at his shoulder. I rub my eyes and finally manage to look at him. His face is soft and sweet.

“Don’t worry about it” he smiles, “we’re actually due to land any minute” he looks like he’s gearing up to say something else when a call comes in on the monitor.

Garcia’s grinning face pops up on the screen and I know that look already.

“Hey gang, you’re touchdown in t-minus 4 minutes and I’ve sent the SUV’s to pick you up and send you straight to O'Keefe’s. A case this good deserves to be celebrated, no excuses!” I’d never been one for going out, but every once in a while it was nice. Especially when it was to celebrate a case gone right rather than drown our sorrows after a case gone wrong.

I turn to look at Spencer, stretching in my seat, still waking up. “I guess we’re going out.” he looks reluctant but he nods and pulls the corners of his mouth up into a smile.

“That’s the spirit!” I joke.

—-

The mood it the bar is enough to wake me up completely. Well that and the tequila shots that Emily insisted on buying right as we got in the door. It was exciting to see Garcia in the flesh. It always felt nice to see her face again after a case. She pulled me into a tight hug as soon as she got to the bar, she squeezed my shoulders as if she hadn’t seen me in months. She pulled me to the side, just out of ear shot of the others.

“So what’s going on, any developments?” she asks with an urgency that I can’t understand,

“With the case? We just have to get the paperwork filed but it’s closed Pen?”

She rolls her eyes with cartoonish exaggeration, “No you idiot!’ she swats my arm, "With the good doctor over there, what happened last week?” She’d tried to fish information out of me during the week when we were texting but I was able to dodge them given the more urgent matters at hand.

“Oh yeah, I don’t know. We watched a movie last week, if that’s a development?” I know it was something, and I leave out the blanket, and the snacks, and the general atmosphere that made the whole thing feel a little more relaxed and normal than it should’ve.

“Yes that’s a development Y/N! That’s what normal people would do, on a normal date” she says, almost loud enough for the others to hear, and now it’s my turn to slap her arm.

“That’s what you and I do when we hang out Garcia, and we’re not dating” I counter, but I know there’s something different about it. And she knows too, giving me a condescending look. I don’t want to keep talking about it, I’ve already had one drink and I don’t want to say anything silly. I grab her hand and pull her to the bar.

“Let me get you a drink and we’ll find the rest of the team” I say and she agrees, albeit reluctantly.

We find the team sitting around a table at a large booth. Rossi and Hotch ducked out before we even got to the bar, but they had sort of legitimate reasons for ditching the evening. I nestled into the empty side of the booth. It happened to be the seat next to Reid, but that wasn’t on purpose. They were all giggling when we sat down.

“What are we all laughing at, get me up to speed here!” Garcia shouts to the group, “I won’t stand for being left out of jokes just because I’m not out there with you guys.”

Morgan stops laughing enough to explain, “Don’t worry babygirl, it wasn’t that funny. It was just the usual, poking a little fun at pretty-boy”

“Oh what are we poking fun at this time?” Garcia giggles

“Resident genius over here clearly has some gaps in his knowledge. He was just talking about how that officer you were all fawning over wasn’t even attractive, and I call bullshit” Morgan and the rest of the team erupt in laughter as Spencer jumps to defend himself.

It felt like he was always confident around me, or didn’t let himself get flustered. He was three quarters of the way through a glass of whisky right now so his guard was on the way down. I rarely got a glimpse of him like this.

“Look all I’m saying is he wasn’t like crazy good looking, like his hair was sorta messy and-”

“His hair was practically identical to yours!” Emily all but shouts through her laughter.

Spencer’s was a little longer, and a slightly darker color, but I wasn’t about to point that out to anyone.

The next few hours spiraled into reminiscing about old cases old haircuts the team had had and eventually, drinking games. I’m not really sure who it was that suggested playing 'never have I ever’ but it could’ve been any one of them.

The questions started out a little tame, “never have I ever cheated on a test”, on to ones that were targeted at people in the group, “never have I ever kissed a celebrity”. Eventually as the drinks started to pile up things got a little less PG.

JJ cringed as she said “Never have I ever faked an orgasm.” and took a long sip, followed by every girl at the table doing the same.

“Never have I ever used handcuffs during sex.” Garcia says with confidence, and what seems like pride. Everyone but Spencer and I take a sip. “Damn guys, not even once!?” asks Emily in drunken disbelief, “You guys are missing out” I make eye contact with Reid as she says it and we both break off instantly. This game was such a mistake. I look down at my empty wine glass and take the opportunity to dodge the next question or two.

“I’m all out, anyone need a refill?” I haul myself out of the leather booth, the team shakes their heads but Spencer downs the last sip of his drink.

“Actually I’ll come with you, I need another” he says, all confidence, as if he doesn’t notice I’m flushed. But I nod like it’s fine and start walking towards the bar.

We stand together waiting on our drinks in silence. I’m honestly not sure how to break it. Thankfully I don’t have to.

“So do you really think that Officer was attractive?” Reid asks, I feel like he’ll regret it but he seems confident in his words.

“Are you still stuck on that?” I ask in disbelief, he was so hung up on such a nothing part of the day.

“Yeah, I guess, I just didn’t think he was your type is all?”

“Oh yeah? And what would you know about my type?”

“Nathan? He was blond, with brown eyes and sort of broad shouldered and built?” he elaborates, “Officer Jennings’ got brown hair and he’s sort of lanky. I think I’d say he was almost the opposite?”

“Well maybe I don’t even have a type?”

“Bullshit”

Our drinks are placed in front of us and Spencer tells the bartender to put it on the teams tab. We walk back to the booth together in slightly less tense silence. I think it’s probably the alcohol, or the exhaustion from the past week, but I find myself feeling uncharacteristically courageous. Before we can get to the booth I grab Spencer gently by the elbow and bring him down so his ear is lined up right next to my face.

“I think it was his hair, I can just picture myself pulling it” I let it out in almost a whisper, only loud enough for him to hear. And I pull away, nestling myself into the booth with the team again. Reid follows, a light blush climbing up his neck.

“So what are we talking about?” I ask, playful

“Never have I ever choked someone or been choked during sex?” Emily asks, I take a sip from my new glass of wine, and Spencer sips from his whisky. For some reason I assumed that would’ve been a tame question but everyone else stays still. Eyes fixed on us.

“My man,” Morgan winks at Spencer, “didn’t think you were the type”

“I guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me” Spencer shoots back.

The questions continue until everyone’s sharing stories. Or mostly just listening to Emily and Morgan’s borderline outrageous escapades. They always seemed to have new anecdotes every time we had nights out like this.

Garcia and I split from the table to dance for a while, ABBA had come on and Penelope all but pulled my arm out of it’s socket to get me to join her on the dance-floor.

We dance till the song is over and Garcia leans in close but still has to shout over the music, “So do you think he’s the choker or the choke-ee?” I have to have misheard.

“What?”

“Spencer! Do you think he chokes or he likes to be choked?”

“Garcia!” I almost shout. “He’s right there!”

“I know the kids shy but I don’t see him as the submissive type is all I’m saying”

And now I was thinking about it. His big hands, those long nimble fingers wrapped tightly around my neck. Or my own fingers, knotted in those chestnut curls, pulling tightly. I let out a deep breath and shook the images from my mind.

“I wouldn’t know Pen”

She scoffed.

After a few more songs the team decided to head home before anyone got too messy. I quickly ran to the bathroom and by the time I made it outside Reid was the only one left waiting for a cab. Of course he’d been a gentleman and let everyone go ahead of him. I threw him a gentle wave, feeling a little awkward now that we were alone. He didn’t seem to share my disposition. A cab pulls up in front of him and he opens the rear door.

“So are you coming or what?” is all he asks. And it reminds me of that first night he invited me to his apartment after I gave him a lift home. He must see my confused glance.

“It’s Friday night, are you coming over or…?” he asks like it’s a perfectly reasonable question. And maybe it is because I don’t even answer. I just crawl into the back of the cab and he slides in next to me, giving the driver his address.

“It’s actually Saturday morning” I whisper, mostly to myself, he glances down to the watch wrapped around the cuff of his sweater.

“Just barely, it’s 12:09” he smirks.

—-

We get settled on the sofa like it’s any other Friday evening, and like we’re not both exhausted and tipsy. Why did I come here, I’m starting to feel like I should already be in bed asleep. I turn and face Reid, probably with a little too much aggression.

“Why am I here Spencer?” I ask, as if he know’s the answer

“Research, like last Friday, and the one before that” he explains, deadpan.

“So what’s left to research?” and he looks like he’s contemplating, he wasn’t even sure.

Then something clicks in his head and I can almost see the lightbulb that pops up above him.

“Never have I ever…” he trails off and I cringe

“We’re not doing this!” I make a move to stand up and he pulls me back down by my wrist.

“Do you not think your boyfriend would know about those kinds of things?” and I know he’s right, but I also know it’s not strictly necessary either. But my wine addled brain doesn’t seem to care. I think on it for a moment and decide to ask.

“Settle something for me,” I smirk and he leans in, a little too eager, “when Morgan brought up the choking thing earlier. Garcia assumed you took a drink because you’d choked someone during. I’m not so sure” I knew it was stirring the pot but that’s what he was trying to do too.

“Oh really, you weren’t so sure?” he asks, no blush, no flustered attitude, “So you think I’m submissive then?” he poses. I shrug, I don’t know that I could say anything out loud in that moment.

“Do you want to know what I think?” His voice drops to a low register, “I think you’re the submissive one here, I think you drank to Morgan’s question because you like it when a man wraps his hands tight around your little throat when he’s fucking you.” Spencer’s leaning in closer and closer as he speaks, his voice almost becoming a whisper as he leans in right next to me.

“And I think you know I’m the one with their hands on someone’s neck”

It’s almost just a breath against my ear. I’d been holding my breath since he started talking and I had to force myself to let it out. I could feel the flush on my chest slowly creeping up my neck. And I’m sure he was close enough to at least feel the heat radiating off of me.

He pulled back sharply, "Fucking got you!” he says enthusiastically, “that’s for that little stunt you pulled, trying to get me all flustered in the bar earlier” he’s got a look of smug satisfaction on his face now and my flush turns into one of embarrassment.

“Fuck you man, red wine gets me all hot and bothered, don’t flatter yourself” I try to take control of the situation but I feel like I’m not very convincing. His expression stays the same.

“Is that so? Well what else gets you hot and bothered then Agent Y/L/N?” I should’ve known better really.

“What do you mean?” I play dumb

“You know exactly what I mean” he smirks.

I could take the general route. I liked it when someone else takes control, I like to be grabbed, to feel nails digging into the underside of my thigh, my ass. I could be specific, like earlier, I could say I like to picture that mop of curly hair between my legs while I get myself off. Or how whenever he’s explaining something to the team I have to look away from him or I’ll just fixate on his hands and the way they move and how they would move if they were on me, in me. But I can’t say that. That’s the wine talking. I settle for something a little generic.

“I like it when a guy puts their hand on my thigh under the table, or when they pull my hair while we’re making out, y'know the normal stuff” I brush it off, like it was a normal question with a normal answer. Just like all of the normal hangouts we’ve had before. He takes in my answer but he doesn’t look satisfied.

“I don’t know if I believe you Y/N. I think you’ve got more to you than that” he looks sure of himself, reclining back into his side of the sofa. I reposition myself so I’m facing him completely, kicking my shoes off and tucking my feet up under myself.

“Fine, I’ll give you dirt, but you’ve gotta reciprocate here” I barter

“You’ve got a deal”

“Okay, I’m not like, into BDSM or anything but I like to be spanked, choked, gagged and restrained on occasion, I like it when my partner’s rough with me is maybe what I’m trying to say” I’ve got this surge of confidence and I’ve got no clue where it came from but Reid looks satisfied now, impressed even. He sits quietly for a moment, mulling the information over in his mind before he responds.

“Do you remember that case a few months back, where we found that man tied to a chair with the shibari rope?”

I nodded, “How do you think I recognized it so fast?” one of his eyebrows quirked up as he waited for me to understand. I think we joked about it at the time. Garcia found it funny that he even knew what bondage was, it had never really occurred to any of us that he’d know about it through first hand experience. My face must’ve looked shocked because he let out a chuckle.

“You’re into, uh, you..?” I wasn’t even sure how to phrase the question

“A little, I’ve only tried it a handful of times but my point is I’m not as vanilla as you probably thought” I’m not sure I ever thought he was vanilla, but this was surprising.

“I’ve got another question,” he poses, “keeping with the theme, where’s the least vanilla place you’ve had sex?” and I know the answer right away. And it doesn’t feel great to think about because it was one of the last times Nathan and I had ever had sex. It wasn’t full of love or anything resembling it, there was something almost hateful about it in a way but I’d leave that part out.

“Nathan was working and we’d gotten back from a case a little earlier than expected so I went to visit him at his office and long story short we fucked in a supply closet”

“That doesn’t sound like a long story that you should cut short but I’ll let it slide” he jokes, but maybe he could feel my hesitation

“Your turn” I point at him, alleviating the pressure on myself. He thinks on it for a moment and clicks his fingers when he thinks of it.

“Standing up in the shower” he says and I have to suppress a laugh.

“Are you serious?” his face drops, “Spencer, that’s vanilla, that’s almost the definition of vanilla! You asked the question, I assumed you had some super kinky answer!” I was laughing now, but he looked surprisingly okay with it. He started laughing too.

“Fuck, you’re right!” he erupted it fits of giggles, “Why did I do that to myself!”

The two of us settled, laughing drunkenly for another few minutes. Finally realizing the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

“Spencer?” I asked and he hummed in response, his head was leaning back on the sofa, eyes closed. We were both exhausted and fighting it hard.

“I feel stupid about this whole thing, I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I feel silly lying to my family, saying I’m dating some stranger! This is so ridiculous” I’m disarmed by my own honesty but it’s been gnawing at me. With my Mom’s party closing in I was feeling more and more duplicitous about the whole thing. Spencer lets out a small chuckle, it’s weak and the whisky has made him drowsier than he probably realizes.

“But we’re not strangers Y/N” he says softly,

“I know, we’re co-workers but still it fee-”

“No Y/N” he cuts me off in that same soft sleepy voice, sitting up to look at me, with his eyes struggling to stay open, “we’re friends you idiot”

My breath catches in my throat and I don’t have a response, but he doesn’t seem like he’s looking for one.

He stands up off the sofa like nothing happened, heading into his room and returning with a pillow and blanket along with a set of cotton pajamas all folded in a neat pile. “I can call you a cab if you’d like but you can also stay here if you want to?” he places the pile on the sofa beside me.

“I think I’ll stay if that’s cool? I know I’ll pass out in the back of a cab if I’m being honest with myself” he lets out a tiny chuckle

“No problem” he smiles gently. I feel as though I don’t have any control over myself as I stand up off the sofa and walk towards him, reaching up and pulling him into a tight hug. I wrap my arms around his neck, stretching up to reach and his hands seem startled before they settle around my torso. His head nestles into the crook of my neck and stays there for what feels like a second too long but I’m probably overthinking it. We release and he walks to his bedroom door before turning back to me, “Goodnight Y/N”

“Night, Spencer” I smile before collapsing onto the sofa.

This was not good.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N and Spencer make sure they’re prepared before heading to her Mother’s Birthday.

I wake up to my phone buzzing right by my ear and groan. My head is pounding and it doesn’t even look like it’s bright out yet. I’d gathered just enough energy to change into the pajamas Spencer had left for me but I could still feel the makeup on my face and the stale taste of wine still lingered in my mouth.

I’m able to maneuver myself upright enough to check my phone. It’s 8:30am and Penelope’s calling me. Thankfully it’s on vibrate so it probably hasn’t woken Spencer up too. I answer and her voice is already too awake for me.

“Morning darling, just calling to make sure you’re not dead and that you haven’t forgotten about our brunch plans at 10?” she’s always so chipper, I’m sure she’s been up for a while already, she’s definitely had a least one coffee anyway. I nod before I remember that she can’t see me.

“Oh yeah, yeah I didn’t forget” I sort of forgot, “I might be a little late, I gotta head home to shower and change first but I’ll be there”

“What?!” She shouts down the line and I have no idea what I’ve done wrong,

“Sorry I won’t be late I’ll move fast!” I try to walk back,

“Oh my god no Y/N, I don’t care about that! What do you mean you have to head home, why aren’t you already at home? Did you get some last night?” Shit, I’m so stupid.

I go into full defensive mode as if I’ve got something to hide, and I don’t think I do at least.

“No Pen, it’s nothing, I just went back to Spencer’s last night. We were up a bit late so I just crashed on his sofa.” and that was all that happened, no big deal.

“Sure, it’s nothing.” she says unconvinced, “But we’re not done with this. Go get yourself cleaned up and I’ll see you soon.”

“Later Pen” I say before hanging up.

I stretch out my back as I pull myself off the sofa. being vertical doesn’t feel good but it’s gotta be done. I get out of the soft cotton PJ’s and fold them along with the blanket and leave them back in a pile for Spencer. I don’t want to wake him up but there’s something that feels a bit crude about leaving like this and not saying goodbye or thank you.

I root around his desk for a minute until I find a scrap of paper and a pen so I can leave him a note, that’s more his speed than texting anyway.

Morning Spencer,

Sorry I’m leaving in a rush, I forgot that I’d made plans this morning. I hope I didn’t wake you up too early with all of my moving around!

I hope you slept well, thanks again for the evening, and letting me crash on your sofa. See you on Monday.

Your Friend,

\- Y/N

As I write it occurs to me that I never actually returned Spencer’s sentiment the night before. He’d called me his friend and I didn’t say anything. So saying it like this felt a little easier, less sappy at least.

I managed to catch up on rest over the weekend. Garcia didn’t interrogate me too hard on Saturday. I think she gave me some sympathy for my hangover. I must’ve looked worse than I thought I did, even after my shower.

—-

I didn’t get to the following weekend unscathed though, I’m not that lucky. My Mom called on Thursday night while I was packing for the trip. Her party was on Saturday and she just wanted to ‘make sure we were all on the same page’.

“And your boyfriend knows to bring a suit for the party itself?” she’s asked me already and she knows the answer, she just doesn’t trust me.

“Yes Mom, Spencer’s got his suit all packed and ready to go. He’s more organized than I am anyway” I sigh, and it’s true really. He’d shown me photos of the few he had, he wanted me to pick the one he thought my parents would like most, and he was still insisting on bringing 4 ties with him so he had options.

“Well that’s good to hear, is he excited to meet us? We’re excited to meet him, finally someone’s come along for you again!”

I almost didn’t even want to answer, it’s like she enjoys saying the wrong thing.

“Yeah, he seems a little nervous though, so just be on your best behavior I guess” and he hadn’t said it in so many words but now that that it was growing closer he seemed a little more on edge.

The past week had been smoother than most. There was no case that we got dragged away on, just catching up on a lot of work in the office. Spencer and I still didn’t hang out outside of work, unless it was for our Friday night 'appointments’. He would ask questions in work sometimes though, if he knew no one else was around. He’d even called one evening to ask if he should’ve gotten a present for my Mom. He sounded so genuinely worried that I felt bad. I told him I’d already gotten a vintage silk scarf and some perfume that would be from the both of us and he relaxed. But he didn’t hang up, we talked for another 2 hours, him in his living room, me in mine. Talking about nothing in particular.

It was nice, it felt like it was what real friends did. And it made me feel so much more at ease about the show we were going to have to put on. At least we weren’t going to have to fake liking each other anymore.

—-

I arrived into the office early on Friday morning to see a package sitting on my desk. It was wrapped sort of badly in brown paper with a small bow tied around it with twine. Garcia and I would sometimes leave little things for each other as surprises but this certainly wasn’t her handy-work. There’d be a lot more confetti.

It wasn’t marked and there was no card, but no one else seemed to be in yet. I picked it up and unwrapped it to reveal a folded piece of black cotton. Unfolding it, it was a black t-shirt with a 'Night of the Living Dead’ decal on the front. I turned around to check the office again to see if Spencer was in yet, and he was walking up behind me, 2 mugs of coffee in hand.

“Spencer, there was no need?” I say and he shakes his head, handing me my mug. And my coffee’s made exactly how I like it. I place it and the shirt back down on my desk and turn to give him a tight hug, his arm, not holding a mug, wraps around my waist. I let go after a moment to say “thank you” and he brushes it off again.

“It’s nothing really, I just saw it and thought of you” he says it like that’s not the opposite of nothing. That’s very much something. I break out in a smile and so does he.

“Oh also, I know we haven’t talked about it, but with the flight being so early tomorrow morning I thought you could maybe stay at my place this evening? If you’re not comfortable with that or anything I understand, just like logistically y'know, I thought it could be a good idea. We could maybe hammer down some of the finer details…” I can see he’s about to launch into a ramble so I cut him off before he can get too far.

“That’s a great idea, I’ll have to swing by my place to grab my suitcase on the way home if that’s cool?” his smile breaks even wider so his eyes scrunch up at the sides and he nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah, that’s cool with me, we could order take out again or something, I don’t know, whatever” the bustling of agents arriving in through the double doors stops him from rambling this time. He retreats to his own desk for the majority of the day absorbed in whatever geographical profile he’s currently working on.

—-

Around lunchtime Garcia corners me by the coffee machine with an intensity and an urgency that makes me think we’re about to get pulled away on some horrific case. I’m already resigned to the phone call I’m going to have to make to my Mom when she starts to angrily whisper.

“Derek Morgan told me that there’s something fishy going on with Reid. He said and I quote 'the kid’s awfully squirrelly lately, I think something’s up’ so spill Y/N, why’s Dr. Reid so squirrelly lately?”

I almost laugh with relief but I don’t want to be outright rude when she’s so serious. “Nothing’s going on Pen, don’t worry, you know that if anything remotely interesting was going on in my life you’d be the first to know?”

She sighs, knowing I’m right, “Fine, but I’m the first to know if anything happens?” she pouts

“Sure you are, you always are, but nothing’s going to happen, I promise you that” I reassure her, but she doesn’t look convinced.

—-

Spencer collects me from my desk at the end of the day and we walk to my car together. We’ve fallen into an easy end of week routine now. We drive to my apartment first to pick up my things.

“I’ll just be five minutes” I unbuckle my seatbelt to jump out when he grabs my wrist gently.

“Can I come up with you?” he asks unsure, “Just for a minute? If we’re supposed to be dating or whatever do you not think I’d have seen your apartment by now?”

I can’t fault him, and I feel sort of silly that I hadn’t thought about it sooner. “Um, yeah I guess. It’s a little messy at the moment but you can have a wander around while I get my stuff” he looks satisfied and hops out of the car to follow me inside.

I walk him up and when we finally reach the door my stomach starts to feel fluttery and nervous. There was something borderline intimate about letting him into my personal space like this. I thought back to a few weeks ago, when I first saw the inside of Spencer’s apartment. How it unlocked pieces of him, it was so unexpected but it made so much sense that that was where he lived. Where he was when he wasn’t at work. I wondered what my home would give away about me, honestly I was scared that it would betray me somehow.

I let him in, right away I make a bee line for my bedroom, leaving him inside the front door, “I’m just gonna finish off packing up, I shouldn’t be long, you can have a snoop I guess? I never thought I’d condone that but here we are!” I try to lighten the mood, I can feel the same weird tension that I’m holding radiating from him too.

“Cool,” he nods and begins to walk around the living space, looking at the photos on my mantle, the collection of books on my shelf, the few house plants I was trying to keep alive with my little free time.

“I’m just gonna be through here if you need anything” I gesture to my bedroom, through a set of doors off the living room, he just nods again soaking it all in.

As I’m gathering my things I can hear him wandering around the rest of the space, opening the cabinets in the kitchen, pulling books off the shelf to flip through, after a while he knocks on my bedroom door. I left them open but he’s being courteous.

“Come on in Spence, have you seen enough already?” I ask

“Not exactly, are you still packing?” He points to the suitcase open on the bed, a hand-full of things still strewn about around it. I don’t have the heart to say I’d actually spent the last few minutes cleaning up my room in case he came in to see it and I was only just getting to the packing part now. So I just agree.

“Yup, just finishing up though” I fold the last few things and try to stuff them into the little case. “You about done in here?” I ask.

“Almost” he says, no longer lingering in the doorway. He moves into the room and starts to take in the little trinkets and make up on my vanity, the photos pinned to the mirror. He moves towards the small desk, looking over the notebooks open and the scribbles within them. I can’t really do anything else but stand there, watching him dissect the inner workings of my life.

He slowly makes his way around to the opposite side of my double bed. He pats the duvet gently and lies down on top of it, just staring up at the ceiling. I sigh deeply and dramatically so that he can hear.

“What are you doing Spencer?”

“Just testing it out, do you not think your boyfriend would’ve been here by now?” He looks over at my unamused face, “or maybe you’re not that kind of girl?” he chuckles, and cocky Spencer’s back.

“Get up, c'mon, we’ve got work to do” I shoo him off the bed, zipping up my case and pulling it up into my arms. He stands up off that side of the bed, smoothing out the covers that he’d disturbed.

“Sorry Princess” he jokes and I just point to the door, ushering him out. But really I have no idea how to respond to that.

—-

We drive back to Spencer’s house largely in silence, he calls in what’s become our usual take-out order on the way so that it arrives not long after we do. Sitting on the sofa as he eats, Spencer pulls out his little notebook again and scribbles something down.

“What are you writing now?” I ask from my perch at his desk, continuing the work on one of his dissertations.

“Just some questions” he says

“Questions about me?”

“Mmhm” he hums, “just about your apartment, to clarify some things?”

“You can ask 'em if you want?” I shut my laptop and focus my attention on him

“Why do you have such a big place if you live alone?”

“I didn’t used to live alone smart ass” I say, probably a little to heated,

“Nathan?” he suggests, and I just nod in confirmation,

“Dropping it, next question. You’ve got lots of paintings that look like they’re from the same person all around the place, is that an artist you like?”

“They’re actually my sisters, the one who’s getting married, Margot. She got all the artistic genes in the family, the rest of us are academics”

“I remember reading that in your notes, she’s good. Are your extended family academics too?”

“Just my parents and me, Dad’s a classics professor, Mom’s mathematics, they’re both retired now though. Margot’s the sort of wild card, but she still lives close to home so I think they like her more” he just looks confused but jots something down anyway.

“You think they don’t like you?” he asks, soft, and genuine.

“No, well not exactly. I know they love me, they just worry. I know they’d like it if I did something different, less all consuming, or high-stakes maybe. Can we talk about something else?” I give up on the work I’d been doing, losing focus completely, and move over to sit with him on the sofa

“Yeah of course we can drop it, I’ve actually got another question written here” he squints down at his notes and his face becomes incredibly serious. “You don’t have to answer this if you’re not comfortable with it alright?”

My throat tightens and my stomach knots, but I still nod. I’m sure he can read it in my face that I’m nervous, and if he can’t, he can certainly hear my hitched breath. He looks back down into the notebook for the question.

“Y/N, why do you have three separate copies of Back to the Future on DVD?” he asks and he can’t keep his straight face for a second longer.

“Oh you bastard!” I pick up the cushion next to my arm and throw it at him, “That’s another one of my favorite movies you ass” I say, calming down. He’s laughing now, holding the cushion I’d thrown at him in his lap.

“Alright, follow up question” he says, reaching forward to grab something out of his satchel, “do you want to watch one of the copies I stole from your apartment right now?” he pulls the DVD up hiding his face behind it. And the gesture’s a little too sweet to feel genuinely annoyed by it.

“Ugh fine, yeah throw it on I guess”

He gets up and puts the DVD into the player, turning back to me ,“If you want snacks I got stocked up, there’s some in the cabinet beside the fridge if you want to help yourself?”

Excited I get up and head to the kitchen, I still didn’t know the layout of his place all that well but I found the cabinet he was talking about. It was filled with snacks, but most notably, there was a stock of enough peanut butter cups in there to last months.

I grabbed 2 of the packets and some popcorn to share and returned to the living room. Spencer was huddled at one side of the sofa, having left a blanket at the opposite side for me. Hopping down into my seat and I got settled for the movie, handing him some of the snacks.

—-

I must’ve been more drained than I realized because I woke up slumped in the middle of the sofa, opening my eyes slightly I could feel something warm under my cheek. My head was resting against what had to be Spencers lap, the blanket was draped over me and I could see the credits of the movie rolling through the one eye I could open. I had to have been out for a while.

Moving slowly and gently Spencer was trying to stand up I presume it was in a effort not to disturb me. I wasn’t about to deal with the awkwardness of having fallen asleep on his lap so I just let him think I was out cold. I expected him to leave me alone but he returns a moment later. Sliding his hands under my back and the underside of my knees to pick me up off the sofa with ease, and it’s surprising, he must be stronger than he looks.

I could feel myself being placed gently down onto a bed with a blanket pulled up over me. His fingers gently brushed the hair out of my face before retreating out of the room to let me sleep. But I couldn’t right away. My heart was beating so loud I feel like he must’ve been able to hear it in the next room.

——

I woke to shuffling in the room and opened my eyes slightly. It was still completely dark. This didn’t look like my room, and it didn’t look like Spencer’s living room either. I could smell his scent on the pillowcase below me and with it the memory of him carrying me to bed last night flooded back. I could feel the gentle way he brushed the hair from my face as he tucked me in and something in my chest tightened.

I remembered why I was here in the first place, and the fact that I had a flight to catch this morning and sat up alert in the bed. My head spun a little at the jolt.

“Oh God, sorry Y/N” I heard a hushed whisper, “I wasn’t trying to wake you, I was just coming in to grab a sweater and leave these for you.” He held up a stack of fluffy towels and placed them on the dresser near the door. “You probably should get up soon though, we gotta head to the airport in like 45 minutes” I just nodded sleepily, still adjusting to waking up too quickly.

“The shower’s right through there if you want one” He pointed to a door by the bed before leaving the room to let me get ready.

I flicked on the light and rolled myself out of bed, grabbing the fresh towels Spencer had left out for me. I hadn’t seen his bedroom before, I’d wandered round the rest of his apartment a little but this was new. I wanted to take a good look around but I couldn’t bring myself to, it felt sneaky. He’d trusted me and left me alone in here so I didn’t really want to go violating that. The room was similar to the rest of his place though. Warm, cosy, lived in, decorated with vintage furniture and ornate trinkets. It was kept spotless apart from a few open books littering the desk and the night stand, but that was to be expected.

I hopped into the shower, waking up instantly under the hot water. It was strange to be here, in Spencer’s bathroom, in Spencer’s shower, using Spencer’s soap. The scent was something I could smell on him all the time, I wondered how long it would linger on my skin for. If he’d be able to smell his own scent on me today.

I ran into a snag on the way out though. I’d left my suitcase with all my clothes in the living room. I dried my hair roughly and wrapped the bigger towel tight around my torso. Listening closely at the door I didn’t think I could hear anyone moving in the living room so I made a break for it. I knew the case was right by the door so I could hopefully grab it undetected.

Thankfully the living room was empty, I made my way towards the case before turning to see Spencer standing in the hall way holding 2 cups of coffee. Just staring at me.

“Morning” I just waved, not really knowing what to do, he didn’t say anything. His eyes just looked me up and down before he turned around quickly, some of the coffee splashing onto his hand.

“Shit, sorry” he let out quietly and I could see his head shaking to himself

“It’s um, it’s cool, I just left my stuff out here” I curse myself for being so awkward and practically run back to Spencer’s bedroom, suitcase in tow.

Quickly throwing on some jeans and a sweater from my suitcase I join Spencer in the living room. He’s sitting on the sofa reading a newspaper, one from a huge stack on his coffee table. He looks up immediately when I open the door, he goes to speak but nothing comes out, he just thinks on it for another moment and breaks eye contact, “Sorry about that” he points to the hallway. I just brush it off, I don’t want to let the whole weekend get started on an awkward foot.

“Don’t worry about it, like you said before, if you were my boyfriend you would’ve seen it by now” I try to crack a joke and feel like I’ve just made everything 10 times worse but he chuckles.

“Well I said that about your apartment but I take your point” he relaxes in his seat, the tension visibly lifting from his shoulders. What was he so stressed about, did he think I was going to be angry with him?

“We haven’t got that long before we’ve gotta leave but I made you a cup of coffee” he points to the mug next to his on the table and I pick it up taking a sip. Coffee always seemed to taste better when he made it for me.

—-

The flight itself isn’t too bad. There’s always something a bit strange about flying on a regular plane now that we’ve become so accustomed to the jet. Spencer couldn’t bring as many books in his carry on as he would’ve liked but it seemed like he was making an effort to read slowly.

I’d almost forgotten I was supposed to feel nervous about the whole situation until we were in the rental car on the drive to my parents house. It was less than 40 minutes but I could still feel the anxiety building and building the closer we got. Spencer must’ve been able to read it on me, why wouldn’t he, my knuckles were white from holding onto the wheel so tightly. I wasn’t doing a great job of hiding it.

He placed his hand gently on my thigh, there was nothing flirtatious about it, he was just trying to ground me. Looking over at him he was giving me a soft reassuring smile and I could already feel the worry dissipating.

Standing at the front door of the house I could feel the nerves begin to build again. I didn’t want to ring the bell, I didn’t want to go inside. I didn’t want to deal with any of this weekend. Then Spencer grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly in his and rang the doorbell for me. I wanted to both thank him and kill him in the same moment.

Spencer and I are the first guests to arrive. Everyone else had the good sense to minimize their time here. My parents seemed thankful though, it gave them time alone with me and my 'new boyfriend’ they were so excited to finally meet. They guide us outside to the back porch where they’ve set up an elaborate table for lunch, with 4 place settings. And now I’m not sure that they didn’t plan the whole weekend this way on purpose.

Spencer and I had spent a good chunk of the flight making sure our backstory was airtight. We both knew he retained everything so it was mostly for my benefit but it was good to be on the same page.

“Do you know what Spencer, I’d love to say we’ve heard so much about you but that’s just not the case! Our little Y/N over here isn’t so keen on keeping us in the loop these days!” My Mother says, sipping her cup of coffee

“Well that’s not all her fault” Spencer swoops in, “we were dating for a while before we really told anybody, just with working together and everything it made sense to keep things quiet until we knew it was something we were sure about” he smiles at me, and takes the opportunity to gently hold my hand that’s resting on the table.

That was part of our 'backstory’. We’d decided that it would seem more reputable if we said we’d been dating for more than only one month. We settled on 4, not too serious, but not nothing either. As far as my parents were aware Spencer had asked me to dinner and a movie, we hit it off outside of work after all and began to date before telling them, and the team, last month.

“And how did everyone take the news in your office? I’m sure they were shocked?” There went my Mom again, stirring the pot. I was about to respond but Spencer stepped in for me again.

“Yeah, there was a bit of shock alright, Y/N and I never really got off to the best start back when she joined our team. I know she’s told you a thing or two about that” he shoots me a glance and smirks, “but truth be told I was just so intimidated by her.”

My head snaps to look at him, but he doesn’t meet my gaze. This wasn’t anywhere in our made-up backstory.

“I’m sure you two must be so proud, she’s the youngest person that’s ever been accepted into the BAU. And before she came along I held that title, so it definitely took some getting used to. But we’d be lost without her” now he looks at me, and his smile is so soft and so sincere I almost melt. And then I remember this is an act. Spencer’s playing the role of my boyfriend. He’s so convincing that even I’ve bought the charade for a second.

Lunch comes to an end with my Dad insisting on showing Spencer the collection of antique Latin novels in his study. And Spencer seems genuinely happy to oblige. My mom and I clean up after lunch and she takes the opportunity to interrogate me without an audience.

“You never told me he was so handsome Y/N?” she asks, and I can’t help but feel a little smug. At least she approved of my hypothetical aesthetic choices.

“Well it never really came up Mom, and besides that’s hardly the most important detail” being around her brings out such a contentious side of me that I can’t stand.

“Well it’s not like you really told me any details at all now is it?” she counters. I place the last of the plates back in the cupboard and slam it shut.

“Jesus Mom, that’s why we’re here isn’t it? So you can get to know him yourself, I’m trying here” I’m exasperated, the whole day’s been a bit draining and the idea of having to socialize again this evening starts to get on top of me.

“I’m gonna bring my stuff upstairs Mom, I’ll talk to you later”

I leave the kitchen and carry mine and Spencer’s bags upstairs to my room. It’s the exact same. My parents had a big house and never felt the need to redecorate our rooms after we moved out. Not yet anyway. The walls were still pastel pink and there were still sheer curtains hanging from the four posters of the bed. The bed. The one bed.

How had I not thought of this. The idea of sharing a bed with Spencer was daunting, or exciting, or terrifying, I couldn’t decide which. Sharing a my childhood bed with someone felt strange to begin with, but maybe it would feel less-so if that person was my actual boyfriend. Not my colleague turned friend who was doing me a favor.

I went straight to the closet, digging around for an air mattress or even a really thick duvet, I could make do with that.

“Whatcha doing over there?” Spencer giggled, he’d followed me up and was clearly amused by my frantic searching. He looks over at the bed and gets to the point far quicker than me.

“Oh” he says, “I see” placing his hands on my shoulders and turning me round to face him. “Relax Y/N, it’s no big deal. I can sleep on the floor if you’d like. But honestly I don’t mind?” He shrugs gesturing to the bed. I just blink at him, unsure what to say.

“I mean, I run hot, and I’ve been told I wiggle my toes in my sleep but if that doesn’t bother you?” he still doesn’t explicitly say it but I nod.

“Yeah okay. I’m sure it would probably look suspicious if anyone discovered a makeshift bed on the floor of my room” and I really didn’t need this situation getting any more complicated. We agree to share the bed, it’s more than big enough for two, but something about it sets butterflies loose in my stomach. At least it’s only for one night.

—-

It’s not long before the other guests will start to arrive so Spencer and I start to get ready for the evening ahead of us. I get changed in my bathroom, I’ve opted for a simple black strapless cocktail dress. It was reliable and there’s not much my mom could really critique about it either. I throw on some make up and style my hair so it’s more refined than usual and put on a pair of heels to complete the look. I didn’t dress up often but that’s mostly because I didn’t have the time, or the places to go if I was being honest. The last few times I’d gotten dressed up were for a few unsuccessful dates and the odd celebratory dinner at Rossi’s house. But I rarely got this dressed up.

When I stepped out of the bathroom Spencer was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for me. He was wearing a perfectly tailored black suit with a crisp white button up and a wonky bow-tie. When he moved I could see his pant legs rise to show his perpetually mismatched socks. The whole sight was perfect.

Looking up to his face he had the same semi-shocked expression I was wearing. Both taking each other in. He’d seen me dressed up before and I’d seen him in a suit before too but something about it was different now. We could acknowledge it this time perhaps, or maybe it was the implication that we were each others dates for the evening, and this time we were dressed up for each other.

I walk over to him and stand in between his legs. It feels a little too intimate but I ignore the instinct to move away. Instead I gently grab the edges of his bow-tie and straighten it out. I think I prefer it the other way, crooked is more like him, but this looks good too. He stands up off the bed and pulls me into a hug. I’m not sure why, and it doesn’t seem like he is either but I don’t want to poke holes in it but the fluttering in my stomach starts up again. I’ll have a drink when we go downstairs and hopefully that’ll remedy the situation.

He pulls back and looks at me, “Shall we have a couple of quick-fire questions?”

“Yeah, can’t hurt, go for it”

“How long have we been dating?” he asks

“4 Months” I say, confident

“What’s my Mom’s name?”

“Diana”

“When’s my birthday?”

“October 28th, c'mon these are too easy”

“Fine, what was our official first date”

“That classic horror movie festival downtown”

We’d decided that given we were both there alone we could both pretend it had been our first official date. If anyone asked we went and got dinner afterwards and it was magical.

“Ah, but when did we get together first?” he says like he’s caught me out,

“After dinner one night at Rossi’s, we 'confessed our feelings for each other’” I mock, “But no ones gonna ask about that”

“Fine, I’ve got another!” his voice lowers an octave and he pulls a grin, “What’s my best physical feature?”

“Hands” I say with such little hesitation it even shocks me, I slap my hand over my mouth in disbelief. His eyebrows shoot up and he laughs out loud as I try to walk it back.

“I mean, they’re just, like big, like noticeably big, fuck, I’m making this worse aren’t I?”

He continues to laugh, spinning me around by my shoulders and placing his hand gently against my lower back to lead me out of the room.

“I was just trying to mess with you don’t worry, thanks for the compliment though”, he winks, before we both head downstairs. I’m not sure about him but I’m bracing myself.


	5. Chapter 5

It doesn’t take long to feel tipsy. Mine and Spencer’s glasses never manage to get below halfway full before they’re topped up by someone.

I assumed I’d have Spencer hanging out of me the entire night but I was wrong. A few glasses of whisky in and he was a social butterfly. Making his way around, entertaining my extended family members. He knew so much about everything I’m sure he could talk to anyone.

I was nestled on the sofa next to Margot. Despite the rivalry my Mom tried to foster between us we still got on as well as any pair of sisters. I loved Margot, I always supported her art and even Spencer had seen her work hung all over my apartment. I’d also been the one to introduce her to her fiancé. Philip and I had met in college, he was a mathematics major. So polar opposite to Margot but they hit it off when she came to visit me one spring break.

We sat on the sofa watching the room.

“I don’t know, it’s just so much more work than I thought it was going to be” She sighs next to me, taking a big sip from her wine glass.

“And then Beth, who’s supposed to be my best friend has been making it all about her”

“Is she still with that guy?” I ask already half knowing the answer,

“As if, she broke up with Mark last month but she’s acting like he left her, it’s a whole thing”

“Jeez, I’m sorry Margot! I hope the rest of your bridal party are co-operating” I joke.

“Oh Y/N that reminds me! We’re in the middle of organizing the bachelor and bachelorette parties for next month! I’m so excited, they’re gonna be in Vegas, it’s gonna be a big night out sort of thing.” she slaps my arm, “Y/N! Spencer should come!”

“He’s actually from Vegas, so as long as it’s not it pretty much any casino on the strip he should be up for it” she just looks confused, her eyebrows knitting together.

“He’s been banned from like, all of them, he can count cards, or predict slot machines, or both maybe” I say and I feel a little smug about it somehow, it feels like bragging about how smart my boyfriend is until I snap myself back to reality. My fake boyfriend.

"Well I can already tell Philip likes him” Margot nudges me to look towards both of our dates, they’re standing across the room, laughing wholeheartedly about something and the smile that’s on Spencer’s face makes me break out in one too.

We catch eyes for a moment and he fidgets with his hands, bringing one of them up to his face and running it through his hair. I wasn’t sure if he was pulling my attention to them on purpose or if I was just drawn to them. He caught my eyes again and curled his finger to signal me over towards him. That felt purposeful.

I help Margot up off the sofa so we can go and join our ‘dates’ across the room. Philip welcomes Margot with a chaste kiss and pulls her in close by the shoulder. Spencer follows suit, wrapping his hand around me and nestling me into his side. His hand stops to rest on my waist and I place my hand on top of his and gently squeeze. I could feel my heart-rate pick up at the contact, we’d never really been this close for this long but I hoped he wasn’t profiling me in that moment. But that was wishful thinking and he probably was. He leaned over towards me and placed a gentle kiss on the top of my hair. It’s such a sweet gesture and I catch myself wondering what he would actually do in a relationship. Would he kiss the top of my head like that?

He squeezes my waist and it brings me back to the moment. Margot looks us both up and down. “You two are so damn cute!” she almost sounds annoyed by it, “Don’t get me wrong sweetheart, I love being engaged" she turns to Philip and gives him a peck on the cheek, “But I do miss those early days when you’re all giddy and you can’t keep your hands off each other” she pulls Philip into a sideways hug, “and the sex is still so unpredictable!” 

I’m in the middle of a sip and I almost choke on it. Spencer plays it well though, just brushing it off with a chuckle as he pulls me closer, now running his fingertips up and down the curve of my waist absentmindedly.

—-

As the evening goes on we’re practically attached at the hip. We mingle throughout the rest of the party and Spencer’s hands are either holding mine, or wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me closer by my waist, my hip, whatever he can get a grip on. As if I was any better, at one point I definitely ran my hands through his hair, but that’s mostly because I’ve wanted to do that since the second I met him.

We all huddled around the dining room table as we light the candles on the birthday cake. I’d had enough to drink that I’d almost forgotten what this party was for. My Mom drank up the attention. Loving every second of the celebration.

Once the cake was over I managed to slip out to the back porch. I wanted the fresh air, it might help me sober up a little. Or shake myself out of the mindset that Spencer was my actual date to this party.

When I made my way outside I wasn’t the only person who had that idea. My dad was sitting quietly on the bench outside, taking in the air and sipping his drink when he noticed me. He just pats the seat next to him, ushering me to take a seat. I sit myself down and take in a lungful of the fresh air hopefully it’ll help me feel a little less flushed.

“Are you happy dear?” he asks, smiling into the moonlit back yard.

I’m a little too tipsy to try and form a calculated response and I just let one roll out. “Yeah, like really happy I think?” I smile at him and he returns it.

“I like him, and I can tell that he’s smitten with you, when you’re not around you’re all he talks about sweetie. I like him a lot better than Nathan that’s for sure. That boy didn’t deserve you” he slings his arm around me and pulls me into a sideways hug.

“I know your mother is borderline obsessive, but she just wants you to have what your sister has honey. She means well”

I know that she’s right, and I honestly do know where she’s coming from. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t get on top of me. I take a breath and try to figure out what I want to say to him.

“I understand, it’s just a lot of pressure is all. And honestly, I want that for me too. But I love my job a lot and I can’t put that on the back-burner either”

He agrees, and he nods, “I understand, and I know you, I know you’ll make the right decisions, you always do.”

The back door creaks open as he finishes speaking and it’s Spencer coming out to look for me. My Dad gives me another tight squeeze on my shoulder before standing up to head back inside. He pats Spencer firmly on the back as they swap places.

Spencer takes the seat beside me on the deck. Sitting in silence for a few moments just taking in the breeze and the quiet. Savoring how it contrasts to the busy atmosphere we’ve been surrounded by all night. He turns his body to face me after a minute or two, and maybe he’s a little tipsy but his smile is from ear to ear.

“I think that went well? How do you feel about it?” he asks, and I can’t help but agree

“Spencer, I honestly can’t thank you enough. Everyone seems to like you more than me. My Dad was just out here telling me how much he liked you.” he looks genuinely shocked, like he had no idea he’d been making such a sparkling impression all night.

“Philip did ask for my email so that’s something I guess” he chuckles, “But I do really like everyone, this really was a fun night, real or fake” he tries to crack a joke but his face falls a little as he says it.

I look at his watch and it’s after 1 am and the thought of having to do any more mingling was exhausting. “Do we really have to go back inside, what if I just slept out here instead?” I ask, only half joking. He cracks a small smile.

“Actually most of the guests have cleared out so I was actually coming out to see if you wanted to hit the hay?”

“Oh thank god!” I can’t contain my relief.

“Perfect, if you want to head up I’ll follow you in a minute with some water, sound good?” He stands up off the bench and helps pull me off too.

“You have no idea how amazing that sounds” I hug him around his middle, tucking myself into his chest while his arms rest gently on my back rubbing up and down with soft motions. “Thank you again Spencer” I mutter into the fabric of his shirt. It’s so muffled I’m surprised he even heard me.

“Anytime Y/N”

—-

I head up first, changing out of my clothes and into an old oversized 'Friday the 13th’ t-shirt and shorts. I really should’ve packed something more serious looking, given someone was going to see me in these pajamas but I honestly hadn’t factored that in when I was packing. I headed into the bathroom to brush my teeth and take off my make-up. By the time I’d emerged Spencer was on his way into the room.

Placing a glass of water on each nightstand he turned to look at me, a complete 180 from how I’d looked for the last few hours. He let out a small chuckle. “What, do I really look that funny?”

“No that’s not it” is all he says before he heads into the bathroom himself to get ready for bed. He returns a minute later wearing the same vintage t-shirt as me, it’s not quite as long on him, but it’s as well worn. His is paired with a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. He turns off the light in the room before climbing into bed next to me.

I’d expected that he’d stay firmly planted on his designated side of the bed, rigid and awkward like I was planning to. But maybe the alcohol had gone to both of our heads because he curls up beside me, and I don’t question it. We’d been getting handsier and handsier with each other as the evening went on. Getting used to the physical contact, the faux intimacy. But no one was here to witness it now, so maybe it was just a tough habit to break.

I reposition myself so that I can see his face a bit better. “Spence?” I ask and he hums in response, his eyes are closed and peaceful.

“Earlier on in the night, maybe this is stupid, you kept like drawing attention to your hands whenever I was looking at you. Were you fucking with me or am I insane?” it felt stupid to ask but if not now when? It certainly felt like he was being purposeful, adjusting his bowtie or gesturing with his hands any time he caught my eyes across the room.

He lets out a breathy chuckle, “Y/N!” he mock gasps, “have you ever know me to mess with you? I’m nothing if not professional”

I can only laugh in a hushed whisper, “You bastard, I knew it” I say, shoving him away from me playfully.

He takes a gulp of air before his eyes open slowly and he’s got an entirely different expression, serious, one I haven’t seen all night. “Well, did it work?” his breathing is more shallow than it was a few seconds ago.

“Uh, well…” I stutter. He takes one of his hands and puts it on my waist, just like he’d done earlier, pulling me all the way over to him. He pulls me until I’m tucked in close, my face nestled in his chest. He moves that same hand, snaking it from my waist, up my back letting it find a home tangled in my hair. I don’t put up a fight, the wine’s gone to my head and I’m using that as my excuse.

Before I can drift off I have a thought, “Spence, Margot wanted me to tell you that you’re invited to Philip’s bachelor party in Vegas, it’s in a few weeks, I’ll be there too for the bachelorette party, and I know we didn’t agree on you having to do this 3 times but if you…” he cuts me off mid sentence.

“I’d love to” he yawns

——

The following morning I wake up in almost the same position. My face is pressed tight into Spencer’s chest, it’s smothering me a little but I can’t help but enjoy breathing him in, his scent, his warmth. It feels perfect. I snuggle myself in closer and he moves a little. One of his hands is planted firmly on my lower back, keeping me close. But his other hand is hovering loosely on the underside of my thigh, pulling my leg up over his body, resting against his hip, we’re completely tangled in each other.

I look up at his face, it’s serene and he looks angelic when he’s so sound asleep. I can’t help but wonder what he’s dreaming about.

I’m staring at his features, resting against the pillow, his wild hair spread out around him when he starts to stir. The hand on my back begins to move up and down ever so slightly pushing my t-shirt further up my back so his fingers are against my bare skin. He’d touched me plenty the night before but it didn’t feel like this. That was putting on a show, performing the act of being a couple. This was something entirely different. This was for no one but us, how could it be?

One of his legs is planted in between mine and it starts to shift. It’s pushing up into the seam of my shorts, and it starts to move faster, harsher. I’m not sure if he’s just moving in his sleep or if he knows what he’s doing to me. How he’s making me feel. I’m not sure where to put my own hands anymore. I let one of them roam his back and when his thigh grinds against me with force I can’t help but let my nails dig into him with the friction.

“Fuck” I breathe against his ear, now that I know he’s awake, that he’s doing this on purpose, I can’t hold back. He must take it as a sign of encouragement.

He shifts a little in the bed freeing both of his hands and bringing them down to my hips. His fingertips dig in so hard I know they’re going to leave bruises. And I’m already excited to admire them later on. He uses the new leverage to pull me down roughly against his thigh, pushing us both together. By now he’s got be be able to feel the wet patch of my shorts against him.

His movements grow more and more urgent, and his grip on me tightens even further. I feel like I’m not in control of my hands anymore as they wander up to his hair, tangling in his curls before pulling against them sharply as the tension in my stomach tightens and builds.

Spencer moves closer, bringing his lips to my ears and he whispers my name as he’s grinding against me. He whispers it over and over as I moan in return.

“Fuck Spencer” I moan into the crook of his neck.

“Y/N” he whispers into my ear, more urgent this time, “Y/N!”, then again louder this time and it jolts me awake.

Fuck.

I wake up for a second time, in the same bed, with the same man. But we’re not wrapped around each other now. In this reality I’m just lying on my back next to Spencer and he’s propped up looking at me, confusion in his eyes.

“Are you okay Y/N?” he asks with what seems like a genuine concern. And I’ve got no idea honestly. All I want to do is wake up a third time, in some version of reality where I didn’t just have a sex dream about my co-worker.

I shake my head and brush him off, “Yeah, I’m fine” I yawn and he looks relieved.

“Oh good, you were moving a bit and making a bunch of noise, it seemed like you were having a bad dream or something, I thought I should wake you” I look up at his face for the first time this morning and somehow it’s more perfect than it looked in my dream. His hair is even more unruly than it is on a normal day, and his eye’s are a little swollen like he can’t open them the whole way just yet and that snapshot of him, with the sun lighting him up from behind could be hung in a museum.

I realize I’ve been looking for a bit too long, “I’m alright really, I don’t know what I was dreaming about but thanks for waking me up” I give him a soft smile and he lies back down on his pillow.

In the harsh light of the morning he feels like he’s further away from me. He’s certainly further away from me than he was when we’d fallen asleep just a few hours earlier. Maybe he’d just shifted in the night, but it felt like more than that. Like he was avoiding me now.

I turned in bed to face him. He’s lying flat with his eyes softly closed, his eyelashes brush the tops of his cheeks and I’d never noticed that before. Even his side profile could be framed. “Did you sleep well?” I ask, and he hums. His eyes stay closed.

“Are you sure, you seem sleepy” I poke fun at him, trying to ease a little of the tension. Spencer lets out a light chuckle, more of an exhale.

“I guess you could say that, it just took me a little longer than usual to get to sleep is all” he confesses.

I’ve been there too, a night of drinking will either put me straight to sleep or keep me up indefinitely. I decided I’d let him get some more rest before I tried to force him up. Our flight wasn’t until the afternoon so we had plenty of time to get ready.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower, you catch up on sleep, okay?” I sit up in the bed and he nods in reply, pulling the excess duvet over himself and getting cosy as I hop out.

I take my time getting ready, treating myself to a cold shower after my unsettling dream before getting dressed. I spend a little time packing quietly in the room, tip-toeing around in an effort not to wake my fake date up again. But after about 45 minutes of sleep he sits up himself. Rubbing his eyes and running his hands through his hair.

“Morning” he mumbles in my general direction. And he pulls himself out of bed and walks around to me. As I’m packing up the last of my suitcase he sneaks up behind be and pulls me into a hug. His arms wrapping around my shoulders and he plants a small kiss on the top of my damp hair. It’s quick and he pulls away before I can really react.

“What was that for?” I ask genuinely confused, he seemed like he was avoiding touching me earlier.

“For inviting me I guess, or for the nice night?” he doesn’t seem like he knows himself. He pulls some clothes from his suitcase and heads into the bathroom to shower.

—-

We finish packing and leave our cases by the door while we have breakfast with my parents. We’re all a little more hungover than we’d like to admit but everyone seems to have had a good night.

We don’t get to dwell over breakfast long before Spencer and I have to leave for our flight. The ride in the car is mostly Spencer regurgitating facts he’d learned about my family and my parents’ friends. He seemed to have made it around to almost everyone last night.

“And did you know your aunt Jo was a regular at the actual Studio 54 back in the day?” he asks, but aunt Jo told us that every chance she got. It was endearing that he found the old family anecdotes so interesting.

“Mmhmm, she’s mentioned it once or twice” I joke, and he smiles at me from the passenger seat.

“Well I thought she was interesting. I enjoyed the whole trip really. You had me all psyched out, I thought it was going to be a minefield disguised as a birthday party” I laughed at that. I might’ve been a bit heavy handed when I was preparing him but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

“Well I’m glad you enjoyed it because you’ve gotta do it two more times Dr. Reid” he doesn’t look bothered at all, throwing me a soft smile.

“Can’t wait” he teases.

—-

The flight’s somehow longer than I remembered and I think I can feel my hangover getting worse instead of better. The dry air of the plane is dehydrating and by the time we land I feel like I could sleep forever. Spencer looks the same, his dark circles are a little more prominent than usual and his eyelids are heavy. As I drive him back to his apartment his expression’s a little more sullen than it’d been earlier in the day. It’s nearly 8pm when I drop him off outside his building and we’re silent as the car comes to a stop. He looks towards his front door, and looks back towards me, he hesitates before saying anything.

“Um, thanks again Y/N, I’ll uh, I’ll see you tomorrow I guess?” his tone is a little nervous, or maybe just tired

“I’m the one who should be thanking you Spencer!” I reach across to his seat and pull him into an awkward hug. He reciprocates, tucking his head into the crook of my neck, before letting me go. He slides out of his seat and grabs his case from the trunk before coming back around to the passenger side window. I roll it down for him.

“Goodnight Y/N” he says softly poking his head through the open gap, a small sleepy smile playing gently on his lips,

“Goodnight Spencer” I return, and I watch him walk away into his building.

All I could think about as I say 'goodnight’ is how much I wished I was saying it while lying next to him. Just like I had the night before, feeling his hands around me as I whispered it into his t-shirt before drifting asleep to the feeling of his chest rising and falling.

—-

It felt quiet and empty at home, after being surrounded by so many people all weekend it was a stark contrast. I tried to convince myself that was it, but really it was because I’d gotten used to being surrounded by Spencer ever since I left work on Friday. I got a weird feeling in my gut. I wanted to call him. Talk to him, about anything at all, just to hear his voice, hear him spout some silly facts. But he was probably sick of me by now. He was doing this as a favor to me, he was hardly going to tell me if he had a horrible time.

I couldn’t call him. I had to let him have some of his weekend to himself. I’ll see him at work tomorrow morning anyway so it’s not even a big deal.

I didn’t want to sit in my vacant apartment either way though, so I called Garcia and invited her over. She wasted no time driving over, she showed up at my front door in her pajamas. They were as extravagant as the clothes she wore during the day. I order in a pizza and throw on my own PJ’s to sit with her on the sofa.

“Did they like him? Did they hate him? Wait, did they buy it? Is that why you’re in this weird little mood, did you get caught out?” Garcia rambles excitedly, and I had no idea I was being so obvious.

“What weird little mood?” is all I can think to say, and she rolls her eyes at me.

“Y/N, I’m not a profiler, but I’m not an idiot, this” she gestures towards me, “is a weird little mood, so out with it”

And I’ve got no idea what to say. I know I felt strange, and I know it was about Spencer, but I can barely bring myself to think it, let alone say it out loud. So I just make an attempt at honesty.

“I’ve got no clue Pen. My brain’s all fuzzy, and yeah I’m still hungover but that’s not it.” I take a deep breath in and shift on the sofa to cuddle a pillow into my chest. “Mom and Dad loved him, he absolutely crushed it, Margot even invited him to the bachelor party next month. And that’s a whole other thing. But it went way better than I could’ve predicted” I told her and she just pulled a confused face, her lips pursing as she thought about her response.

“So what’s the issue, what’s the mood about then?”

“I think it went too well?” I say, but I’m almost asking myself, “I think I had too good of a time maybe?”

“What does that even mean Y/N?” she’s put down her drink and is looking at me intently now, giving me her undivided attention and I can’t help but crack under it.

“I don’t know, I had a fucking sex dream about Spencer okay?” I bring up the pillow to cover my face and I can hear Penelope giggle.

“I knew it! Oh my god, I called it!” she laughs and takes a congratulatory sip of her wine.

I just groan into my pillow. It feels so real now that it’s out in the open, but I snap up to look at Garcia, “Wait, what do you mean you called it?”

And she looks at me surprised, like I shouldn’t need to ask, “That you’d fall for each other you idiot?” she says in disbelief, shoving me gently but I jolt upright.

“Fall for each other? What? Garcia no!” I defend and she her eyebrows shoot up.

“Okay, so you mean to tell that me you had a steamy dream about our boy genius, and that it meant nothing. No emotions, no feelings behind it at all?”

I knew she was right. I hadn’t even told her that he was lying next to me when it happened. About the little t-shirt he’d gotten me, how he’d carried me to bed the other night, how my heart jumped whenever he’d so much as brushed up against me while he was wearing that perfect suit the night before, and how he looked even better in his stupid pajamas. She was so right.

“Fuck Garcia” I’m sure she can see the dawning realization painted across my face, “I fucking fell for him, I’m such an idiot” I admit.

“Thank god you finally realized, I was getting sick of all of your aimless flirting” she confessed and I’ve got no idea what she’s talking about, we’d kept everything professional in work over the past few weeks. Even going out of our way to avoid looking friendly so that we didn’t have to explain the situation to anyone else.

“Garcia we’ve never flirted, what are you on about?”

“Never flirted? What was your whole love-hate garbage this whole time about then?”

“Garcia, that was just hate-hate. That wasn’t flirting?” I try to argue.

“Yeah okay sure” she scoffs unconvinced, “So what’s the plan then now that you’ve fallen for each other, tell Hotch, oh oh, can I please be in the room for that conversation? I wanna see the dumbstruck look on his poor face!”

And it hits me that we haven’t fallen for each other, it’s not mutual. It’s been a one sided fall. 

“Pen, it’s not like that. It’s not like I’ve told him or anything. He’s just doing me a favor, he’s not into me” I’m telling myself as much as I’m telling her, “it’s just transactional to him.”

My stomach feels tight as I say it and Garcia’s expression falters a little.

“You don’t know that, he might be head over heels for you darling” and it makes me force out a small chuckle, but I shake my head, of course he wasn’t. “But maybe he could be, with some time?” she suggests, soft and sweet.

“What do I do? Now that I know, how do I just show up to work tomorrow? God Garcia, how do I go to a fucking wedding with him?” I’m exasperated and tired, curling up into myself on the sofa. The very thought of having to pretend that I’m pretending to like him hurts my head, and my heart. How am I going to do that 2 more times. This was such a horrible idea.

“Hey sweetie, it’ll be fine! I think you should just keep doing what you’re doing, let it just come naturally” she seemed so confident that I just nodded and hoped it would feel that simple tomorrow, and every day after that, all the way up till the wedding. After then who knows how un-simple it’ll be, but I try and push that thought down before I can really process it.

Maybe these feelings would just dissipate with time. I never thought that anything could feel quite as horribly strong as my hate for Spencer Reid, but this was so much worse.


	6. Chapter 6

Garcia and I headed into work together the following morning. I hadn’t quite reconciled how I felt with how I was going to have to behave once I got into the bullpen just yet. What I really wanted to do was go back to last week, back to when I didn’t have to think about how I was going to act around Spencer.

“You ready?” Penelope asks, pulling me in close by the shoulder. The elevator was quiet, and it was going to be my last moment of peace in the day, I could feel it. Before I could answer my cell phone starts to ring in my pocket.

It’s Hotch notifying the team that we’ve got a case already. So much for my last moment of peace, I couldn’t even get that.

Garcia walks me to my desk to grab my go-bag before we have to say goodbye, she pulls me in for a hug. “Hey, at least it’ll be a distraction, okay? she says gently, "Call me if you need me, for anything” she pulls back and waits for my nod of reassurance. Once I give it to her we part ways.

Once I get to the jet there’s already a half the team on board. Spencer is sitting on the couch towards the end of the plane, already combing through a stack of files, too engrossed in the details he doesn’t look up. I take the opportunity to nestle in next to Emily and JJ, taking a look at one of the tablets on the table.

“Morning Y/N” JJ says, alert as always, smiling so brightly over at me that I can feel it lifting my mood, “how was your weekend?” she asks so innocent.

“Good!” I say a little too enthusiastic over compensating so I pull it back, “It was my Mom’s birthday actually so I flew home for the weekend” I explain

“That sounds lovely, was it a big one?” she asks enthusiastic as always,

“Yup, she actually turned 50 so we had a whole big family party. I had a lot more fun than I thought I would honestly.”

“Isn’t that always how those things go?” she adds, chuckling ever so slightly.

I don’t have time to respond before Hotch joins the rest of the team on the jet and starts to get into the details of the case. 4 women are already dead and another 2 have been abducted from a sleepy town in Iowa. It’s nasty from the get go and there’s no indication this unsub is planning on slowing down.

The team spends the majority of the flight in concentrated silence, quietly reading over the files. Discussing possibilities every now and again in an effort to hit the ground running, but we won’t be able to make a proper start until we land.

——

It’s a frustrating case to say the last. It takes a couple of near sleepless nights and some grueling work. By the time it’s wrapped up it’s Friday evening and I haven’t had much time to think about Spencer. Though it’s been a generally horrible week it’s at least been some kind of reprieve. It’s made it easier to act normal around him, there was no time for anything else realistically, I couldn’t let my emotions get in the way of a case.

We all decided to go back to the hotel to get some rest before flying back in the morning. Despite the case wrapping up, the mood was a little dull amongst the team as we trudged back into the hotel, scattering to our respective rooms with little said between each other. I gravitated straight to the shower, needing desperately to wash the day off of me before climbing into bed.

As I’m getting into my pajamas there’s a soft knock at my door. I open it quietly and Spencer’s standing there. Hair completely disheveled, dark circles more prominent than usual. He’s got an oversized sweater on with his pajama pants and he looks adorable, and I’m right back to where I was at the start of the week.

“Hey” I say softly, he runs his hands through his hair, and it does nothing to smooth it down.

“Can I come in?” he asks, his voice is sleepy and unsure. I nod and pull the door open fully so he can come inside. He makes his way in and stands awkwardly in the centre of my room, he seems like he’s as confused about how to proceed as I am. Holding his arms around his body he looks around a little, taking in the mess I’d made from living in the space all week.

“Sorry the place is upside down, I didn’t think uh…” I feel stupid for starting the sentence, “I didn’t expect company” I finish, and he pulls a soft smile.

“Sorry, I can go, I just, I miss-” he cuts himself off, “It’s Friday.” he states and lets his arms fall down by his side, “I thought you might want to hang out, but maybe this was stupid, I can go” he moves back towards the door but I pull him back by the elbow.

“Sit down Spencer” I say it with a light laugh to hopefully put him at ease, it seems to work. His shoulders relax, releasing all the tension he’d been holding there. I point him towards the bed. “C'mon, we’ll watch a movie or something.”

He perches on the edge of the bed as I climb in and sit up by the headboard. The bed is wide enough that we could probably fit 2 more people in between us but he doesn’t seem to budge. “You can sit up here?” I suggest and he moves himself up towards me, sitting on the far side of the bed. It feels overwhelmingly purposeful. The distance feels like miles. I try not to think about it as we watch the episode of The Office that had already been playing when I turned on the TV. I can feel tension emanating from Spencer’s side of the bed once again. He’s toying with the hem of his sweater.

“Hey Spencer, what’s going on?” I try to tease it out of him and he lets out a deep sigh.

“Look Y/N, I’m sorry” he doesn’t look at me as he says it, but I’ve got no idea what he’s sorry for, or why he seems like he’s ashamed of it either.

“I really did have a great time last weekend and I shouldn’t have overstepped so much. It was just the atmosphere, and definitely the alcohol, and I’m just really sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have been so casual.” he still can’t look up at me, and his tone becomes a little shakier.

“I just don’t want you to be weird with me. I really like hanging out with you and I don’t want to mess it up by giving you the wrong idea”

I can feel my chest tighten as he says it. He’d just been tipsy, that was it. He didn’t mean to touch me, he didn’t want to give me the wrong idea. But it was too late for that. I realize I’ve left him to sit in it for so long and I’ve got to say something.

“Spencer” I touch his shoulder to get him to look at me, “I don’t want to mess it up either. I had a great time last weekend too, but you’ve got nothing to be stressed about. You did perfect, that’s exactly what I brought you there to do, remember?” I try to ease his anxiety.

“But I thought?” He blinks at me, “You’ve been avoiding me all week I thought there was something wrong?” I was so foolish to think he wouldn’t have picked up on it.

“No it wasn’t you Spencer, I think it was just the case, I don’t know. You’ve got nothing to be worried about” I reassure him, even though it’s not entirely true.

“Okay, well, I think I should probably head back to my room now anyway” He stands up off the bed, and I jump up to walk him towards the door, “But um, can I maybe, hug you?” he asks tentatively. And I feel horrible that I’ve made him think he’d have to ask. I nod enthusiastically.

“You can hug me anytime Spencer” and his smile cracks wide as he pulls me in towards him.

He tucks me into his chest close, placing a small kiss on the top of my head and I can’t help but breathe in the smell of him. I’ve missed it this week. Before he pulls back fully he just whispers down towards me.

“I think you might be my best friend Y/N”

I can’t bring myself to speak because I’m fairly confident I’ll just cry. So I squeeze him tightly and hope he knows what I mean.

He pulls away fully and gives me a short wave before heading back to his own room. I sit myself into my bed, purposefully sitting on the side that Spencer had been on, smelling the lingering smell of his detergent on the pillow. I shoot him a text, even though it’s not really his speed, I feel like I should.

_I’m sorry I even made you think I didn’t like you. You’re my best friend too x_

he responds immediately

_Goodnight Y/N xx_

I smile at the two little kisses staring up at me and fall asleep.

—–

The following Friday Spencer suggests that we go out. It’s clear from how my Mom’s birthday went that there’s not a lot more that needs to be done to prepare, we’re already pretty confident in our ability to pass as a couple. I’m mostly grateful that Spencer hasn’t taken that to mean we don’t need to hang out anymore so I don’t want to poke holes in his plans.

On top of that he’s far too enthusiastic about the evening to shoot him down.

“There’s this screening of _Halloween_ downtown and you mentioned you hadn’t seen it, so I thought we could go out this time, maybe go get some food or a drink or something after? I don’t know, if you don’t want to that’s cool too, I just thought I’d check and see if..”

I hesitate just long enough for him to continue rambling. What he was proposing sounds an awful lot like a date, and I know it’s not. It just sounds like one, but I have to stop reading into every little gesture.

“Of course Spencer, that sounds great. Just let me head home and get changed and we can meet at the movies?”

We meet outside the theatre about an hour and a half later, it’s nice to be out of work clothes for once, having a reason to get a little dressed up for the evening. When Spencer shows up he’s done the same, donning a lilac sweater, the collar of a crisp white shirt poking out at the top, a little crooked but that made it all the more endearing.

We sat beside each other in the dark, him watching the movie, me watching him mostly. Sneaking glances over at him whenever he was totally engrossed in the film. He’d seen it over and over and it was funny to see that he was still shocked by the jump-scares.

“Did you know that Halloween was written in a mere 10 days?” Spencer says as we exit the theatre,

“And shot in only 20” I say with confidence and giggle when he turns to me confused, “I googled it on the way here Spence”

“And John Carpenter wrote and performed the films score in just 3” he held up 3 fingers to punctuate the point.

“Well that one I didn’t know” He lets out a small laugh as we continue walking towards the restaurant nearby.

“Y'know this is like our first date?” he says it so casual that I almost don’t register what it means.

I stumble a little as I walk, unable to say anything other than a quiet “What?”

He shakes his head, noticing my shock, “I mean like, what we told your parents our first date was. We went to a movie and got dinner after. Just like this” he makes a gesture around the two of us.

Oh course that’s what he meant. This wasn’t a date to him, why would it have been?

Over dinner the subject of the other team members comes up, I think I must’ve started it by poking fun at Will’s accent.

“He just sounds so old-fashioned? I think that’s what I’m getting at?” I laugh but soften immediately, “I love Will though, he’s such a sweetheart, him and JJ work so well” I smile just thinking of them and their boys. Spencer smiles but his face falls just a little as he’s thinking.

“Do you ever find it strange how other members of the team have managed to find partners?” He looks flustered after he’s asked the question, “Not that they’re not amazing, and don’t deserve partners!” he says, as if I could’ve read that as the meaning, “More like, how did they find people to put up with the toll this job takes. I haven’t had anything with anyone that lasted longer than a couple of weeks since I joined the unit” he sighs as he says the last part, his voice growing quiet and his eyes trained on the napkin he’s toying with on the table.

There’s something heartbreaking about the way his face falls, like he thinks he’s the one who’s doing something wrong. I reach my hand out instinctively to touch his own gently, coaxing him to look over at me. I’m not sure where the words come from but I have to say something to soothe him.

“When you’ve got a job that’s as hectic as ours, it’s all about making time for people when you can. Maybe you just haven’t found the person that you want to make time for yet” I want to provide him with some semblance of comfort but I regret saying it almost instantly.

“I mean, I am your fake girlfriend, so I think I’m qualified to talk about these things” I try to ease the tension with a joke, and it sort of works but maybe he’s just laughing to get me to stop.

“C'mon, let’s get you home” he smiles at me softly and moves his hand out from under mine to pay the bill.

We leave, grabbing separate cabs home. Reenforcing how much this was emphatically not a date. If this had been a date we would’ve been able to ride home together, I could’ve held his hand properly across the table at that restaurant. I could’ve kissed him in the back of that cab.

I just stare at the orange streetlights passing outside the window and push those thoughts down.

—-

The following week rolls around and there’s a short case that the team has to consult on, it’s only a 30 minute drive from HQ.

Cases like this one are rare, and it’s nice to be able to avoid travel for the week but there’s always something a little unsetting about having a case so close to home, it’s harder to distance myself from.

Thankfully it was a solitary kidnapping and we managed to diffuse the situation before anyone managed to get hurt. The case wrapped on Thursday night and Hotch let us have until Monday to hand in our paperwork. So, as Morgan insisted, none of us had an excuse not to head out for a few drinks with the team.

“Tequila!” Emily yelps as she leaves the tray of shots down on the table, shaky enough that I can tell she probably had one or two before she came back to us. They got us off to a strong start and as the night moved on we all probably drank a lot more than was advisable.

“Shh shhh” Morgan hushes the table dramatically, and ever so slightly tipsy, “I’ve got a question” he smirks, “What is going on with the. Two. Of. You” he enunciates each word, pointing between Spencer and I across from him with each syllable. I can feel my throat start to tighten.

“What are you talking about?” I say, and even I know it’s unconvincing, “Nothing’s _going on_ ” I mock the last two words.

“Nu uh, you and pretty boy here haven’t been at each others throats in a couple weeks now” he retorts,

“Oh my god you’re right, I’m almost starting to miss the bickering” Emily jokes and takes a large swig from her glass.

I was either stupid, naive, or potentially both to think a team of profilers that I spent the majority of my waking hours with wouldn’t notice the changes in mine and Spencer’s behavior towards one another. It’s not like we were making any real effort to hide our friendship, just the situation that bred it.

Spencer waves his hand, dismissing the whole thing, “We’ve sort of gotten over ourselves. We were being childish before, so we’re making a conscious effort to get along these days, less friction. I’m sure it’s easier on the team” he gestures around the table.

“Oh, _we_ were being childish now?” I quip back, my tone obviously playful. He scrunches up his nose as he looks over at me and just sticks out his tongue.

“Aw, there it is!” Emily coos over at us.

As we’re all piling into our cabs home for the evening Spencer leans in, he’s a little giddy from all of the drinking. And his tolerance is somehow even worse than mine. He comes in close, leaning down so he’s near my ear and he starts to whisper like he’s telling me a secret, “Hey I know it’s not Friday but since we’ve got nowhere to be tomorrow do you maybe wanna hang out?” I try not to look too enthusiastic as I agree.

—

We stumble in the door of his apartment, giggling about how badly I’d tried to sing along to the Bruce Springsteen song playing in the cab, Spencer’d given the driver a sizable tip for the ‘nuisance’ as he’d called it. I grab us both a tall glass of water in an attempt to sober up even a little.

We settle in on the sofa and turn on the tv, we’re not really watching anything but at least I can say we’re 'doing something’ rather than 'I just want to be near you’.

“Do you think you’re ready for the bachelor party next weekend?” I question him,

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well it’s just a different scene to a family party is all, like less PG?” his eyebrows shoot up and he looks sober for just a second.

“What?”

“Well we’re not going to be hanging out with a bunch of people who work with my parents, or who are my parents. This time it’s going to be a bunch of people our age. In Vegas, drunk as all hell. You’ll fit in just fine”

“Well I’ve actually never been drunk so I’ve got no idea what you’re getting at” he quips, but it comes out a little more slurred then he probably notices. I give him a gentle shove for his joke and he leans in.

“But for real, I’ve never even been to a bachelor party, should I be worried?”

I laugh at his concern. It reminds me of the days leading up to my Mom’s party when he started to second guess himself.

“Not at all, there is actually something we should probably hammer down beforehand though”

He quirks up an eyebrow.

“Okay, at a friend of mines bachelorette last year there was like, a lot, of talk about our sex lives, like party games and stuff. So we don’t have to get too specific but I guess we should just both be on the same page. Or if you’re not cool with that we can both just pretend to be awkward about it and dodge the questions?” I suggest, and his lips curve up in a goofy smile.

“ _Pretend_ to be awkward?” he mocks.

"Hey fuck you Reid, I’m not awkward” He just laughs at that.

“ _Fuck you Reid_ , feels like old times.” he giggles and lets out a long yawn. “Should we try and hammer down our fake sex life then?” he says through half open eyes. And he looks so sweet and gentle and ready for bed that I can’t make him stay up a minute later.

“Nah, we can sort that out before next week. For now you should just get some sleep”

I usher him to his bed and get him to lie down. He gets into his PJ’s while I fetch him another glass of water and some painkillers that he’ll undoubtedly need in the morning. When I come back into the room he’s sitting crawling in under the covers, hair all messy. I go to place the water and pills down on the table beside him and his hand reaches out for me.

“Lie down” he mutters, like a petulant child. I giggle at him.

“Spencer, I don’t live here, I’ve got to go home”

“Shhhh,” He says dramatically and maneuvers himself upright in the bed once again, he reaches out his other arm and snakes it around my waist to pull me in towards the bed “no you don’t! You can just stay here” he pats the bed beside him, “you’ve done it a bunch of times”

“I’ve slept on the sofa Spencer” I’m still giggling, his cocky drunk attitude is more endearing than I’d ever tell him.

“Pfttt, but we’ve slept in the same bed before too” he dismisses my argument with a wave of his uncoordinated wrist. I look down at him with his sleepy eyes, and his goofy smile. And he’s probably not going to remember this in the morning anyway. “Please” is all he says next, puffing out his bottom lip.

“Fine, but you’re not as cute as you think you are” I mock him. But his grin has grown ear to ear and he lets me out of his grip. He points me to a pair of his PJ’s and I change into them in the bathroom before coming back over to join him.

I’ve slept in a bed with Spencer before, and I’ve slept in this bed before. But never at the same time. As I lie down I can feel how big of a mistake this was. It’s too cosy, it’s too sweet. My heart’s not going to take this very well.

Spencer flicks off the lamp beside his bed and tucks himself in under the covers. “It’s like a sleepover” he mutters, half asleep already.

“Exactly like a sleepover” I reply.

I stay firmly planted on my side of the bed and he doesn’t reach out for me, he’s drifting to sleep a little too quickly. For a second I contemplate leaving before he can notice but I begin to realize I’m too tired myself. Part of me is relieved that we’re so separate, but in reality I knew I was more disappointed than anything else.

I let my thoughts drift before falling asleep facing Spencer.


	7. Chapter 7

The following morning I woke up a little too warm. When I opened my eyes I could feel my back firmly tucked right up against Spencer’s chest, his body flush with my own. His arm keeping me pressed close. This wasn’t good. He must’ve done it in his sleep without noticing, or maybe I did? God I hope not.

I make a move to pry myself away from him, hopefully I can sneak away before he wakes up and I wont have to deal with this. As I maneuver in an effort to free myself from his grip I can hear him speak up behind me.

“Hey, you’re up” he whispers gently, he was awake?

“Morning” I croak, not really knowing what else to say given the current situation.

I make my way to a sitting position in the bed, looking down at him. Fuck he looks so cute in the morning, and I knew that already, this was such a stupid idea. He must be able to read the expression on my face because he sits up right away to face me.

“Sorry about that” he says apologetic, “ugh” he groans and begins to rub his eyes, “I made a fool of myself last night didn’t I?” his concern is evident. I decide to put him out of his misery and lie a little.

“No I think I must’ve. I can’t remember much of anything” I’m sure part of him can tell I’m lying but he doesn’t press the issue.

“We’ll that’s a relief I guess” he breathes out a comfortable sigh.

“I should get going” I pull myself out of the bed. I must look a mess, I definitely didn’t manage to take off my makeup last night and I’m fairly sure I can see parts of it smudged into Spencer’s cotton pillowcase.

His face falls a little, “That’s cool, but uh, I was actually gonna head into the office and pick up some stuff to get my paperwork done at home today. And I know Hotch gave us the day off but it’s still Friday and I don’t know. Never mind, it’s silly” he backtracks, fumbling awkwardly with the corner of the duvet.

I can’t help but be disarmed by the earnest tone in his voice. And it’s not like I didn’t want to already, but I buckle.

“That honestly sounds great Spencer” and he beams.

I get ready and head into the office to pick up the things Spencer and I need to do our work. I also swing past my own apartment to change clothes before I’m right back at his front door.

When he opens it for me his hair is damp, the curls only starting to form, and he’s clad in a sweatpants and a cable knit sweater and it makes my heart soften just at the sight.

“I made breakfast” he beams. And I can smell it now that he says it, “Well, I tried to make pancakes but they might not be the best” he cringes, “but there’s plenty of coffee”

“That sounds beyond perfect.”

—-

We settle into our respective places, Spencer upright at his desk, combing through his files with a speed that looks like he has to be faking it. I recline on his sofa, with my laptop propped up on my thighs, working my way through at my own pace.

I wish I wasn’t but I can’t help but sneak glances over at him. When he’s hyper-fixated on his work, tongue hanging ever so slightly out of his mouth and his brows knitted together while he ruminates on a problem. I’d seen it all before, in our office, at the round table, but never while he was wearing a cosy cream colored jumper and sweatpants, sipping on a cup of tea that I made for him.

He moves suddenly, stretching out his back that had been hunched over his desk for too long now. I can’t look away fast enough and he catches my eyes.

“What are you lookin’ at?” he jokes, stretching his arms up above his head, some joint pops and he groans at the relief.

“Just you, concentrating” I can’t think of a lie fast enough so I just let the truth topple out.

He looks confused, one of his eyebrows quirking up, “What?”

“I don’t know, you looked funny, concentrating so hard on paperwork, not wearing a tie, it’s just… different”

“Well ditto, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you do paperwork in a dress before” he chuckles and I look down at my outfit, a sundress and a cardigan, nothing I’d have ever worn to work. I guess he was right.

When I look up again he’s stacking his paperwork neatly to one side of his desk. “I’m all done here” he declares, standing up from his desk. I glance down to my desktop. I’m not quite there yet but I can finish over the weekend. Spencer doesn’t have to know.

“Just about finished here too” I smile up to him, closing the laptop and placing it on the coffee table, stretching my legs out along the sofa.

He comes over to sit beside me, my legs still outstretched.

“Scooch” he motions for me to move my legs but I don’t, playing petulant. He grabs my feet and lifts them up, sitting down beside me and laying them in his lap. I let out a huff as though I’m annoyed but he can see through me.

“Shut up” he pokes, “Are you hungry?”

I hadn’t thought about it but I am, we hadn’t had anything to eat since Spencer’s attempt at pancakes earlier that morning.

“I could eat” I downplay, “have you got anything in?”

He looks thoughtful for a moment, “I did go grocery shopping during the week, wanna have a look?” I nod eagerly.

He pushes my legs off of his lap letting them fall onto the wooden floors, he stands up and pulls me up with him and guides me into the kitchen.

I filter through his cabinets, unusually well stocked with ingredients, his crisper drawers even had vegetables in them.

“Have you been holding out on me Spencer?” I turn to look up at him from my hunched position looking though a cabinet, “Have you been a closet cook this whole time?”

He shakes his head immediately, “God no, I was just, I was maybe going to learn?” he asks softly, not even asking me, just himself. He looks a little embarrassed, unsure, until I stand up to his level and give him a soft smile.

“Well I can teach you?” I almost regret it as it slips out, playing domestic with Spencer today had been bad enough, this would throw me over the edge. “It’s one of your lacking skillsets Spence”

“You mean you didn’t love my pancakes?” he asks in faux shock hand coming up to his chest. I just elbow him against his ribs gently.

“How does pasta sound?” I ask rooting it out and placing it on the worktop in front of him, he picks up the packet tossing it between his hands.

“Perfect”

I have to walk him though the process at a painstaking pace. For a genius he’s slow to decipher how to chop an onion. He knows so much in theory but so little in practice.

“Did you know that ancient Egyptians worshipped onions, believing their spherical shape and concentric circles within symbolized eternity. In fact, onions were often placed in the burial tombs of Pharaohs, as they were believed to bring about prosperity in the afterlife.” he rambled, holding the knife in one hand and onion in the other as I chopped the garlic and tomatoes.

“Shut up and chop” I point down at his chopping board and his lips pout.

“What if they make me cry?” he whines

“I’ll make you cry if you don’t start chopping” I joke bringing my knife up to point at him, putting on my best threatening face. He turns back to his chopping board defeated.

“Did you know that the reason we cry while chopping onions is that cutting into them releases sulfuric acid, which reacts with the moisture in our eyes to create a tearful reaction?” he asks again.

“Chop!” I let out a soft laugh without looking up from my station.

“Fine” he huffs and finally gets to work.

It’s not the best sauce I’ve ever made, far from it. But Spencer seems enthralled as he takes his first bite. Savoring the taste of something homemade.

“This is so good Y/N” he swallows another mouthful, “and we made it!” he seems shocked just to say it. There’s something so delightful about the whole experience, getting to watch him in almost childish delight over such a mundane task.

Once we finish cleaning up after dinner it’s started to get late. I don’t want a repeat of last night, well I do want it, but it’s not a good idea. I tell him that I’ve got plans with Garcia first thing in the morning and it’s the truth. Realistically I don’t want to have to explain to her how I stayed at his house 2 nights in a row. He accepts my reasoning with a soft smile as I pack up my things from the living room.

“Thank you” he says, and it’s so timid and gentle I would’ve missed it if he weren’t right next to me, following me towards his door.

“You practically made that dinner all on your own!” I joke, punching his shoulder lightly. He lets out a short exhale through his nostrils.

“I meant for today, the whole day” he says without making eye contact. And honestly I’m thankful, if he looked at me right now there’s no way he wouldn’t be able to see straight through me.

“Anytime Spencer” I confess and pull him into a hug in the doorway. His arms wrap around my waist while mine pull him down ever so slightly by his neck, allowing his head to rest beside mine as I whisper “Goodnight Spencer” against his ear.

We let go after a moment and he watches me walk down the hallway, “Goodnight Y/N” he calls after me.

—-

The week flies past with little to remark upon. There was no urgent case to be whisked away on. I wasn’t sure I had the headspace for it right now anyway.

On Friday evening I break my ritual and agree to meet with Penelope for dinner after work before going to Spencer’s. I hadn’t been as up front with her as I probably should’ve been. There were some feelings I was still trying to reconcile myself.

“Honey, I think you’re both just oblivious” she groans. And I know I’ve subjected her to a bit too much of this. “I’d put any amount of money on it that he’s into you Y/N, take my word for it”

I dismiss her right away. Not because I don’t care about her opinion, but because I don’t want to go and believe what she’s saying and just get my hopes up. We were friends at best, everything else is just for show and I can’t let myself think otherwise.

“Look, I’ll get over it. It’s just a proximity issue. We’ve got to get through this weekend and and then it’s the wedding and then it’s over” and my stomach clenches as I say that last part. She doesn’t look convinced but she drops it.

Reaching below her chair she brings up a small wrapped gift and places it in my lap. It’s daintily wrapped in purple tissue paper with a delicate pink ribbon. “I almost forgot, I got this for you because you’ve been going through it. Do me a favor and just pack it in your suitcase, don’t open it till you get there okay, promise?”

I look at her confused but I nod anyway, “I wouldn’t dare”

—-

Spencer pulls open the door excitedly for me, I can see the area where he’d been settled at his desk. A half finished cup of tea sitting next to his little lavender notebook. I point over at it.

“Brushing up are we?”

He looks a little bashful, “You never know, I could get caught out” I shove his arm and walk past him into the apartment.

“Then what good’s that eidetic memory, genius?” I wiggle my eyebrows.

We sit for a while, talking about nothing in particular, but aggressively avoiding what we’d mentioned the week before. It takes a glass and a half of wine before Spencer broaches the topic.

“Y/N, last week you mentioned that we should have the same, uh, ideas about or faux sex life?” he looks awkward saying it, unable to make eye contact despite the wine. I must’ve been feeling braver than him in the moment, or his bashful nature made me want to take charge.

“How often do we have sex?” I start slow.

“How does like, 5 times a week sound?” he throws out quickly

“Woah! For real?”

“I mean yeah, why not?”

“Well we’re supposed to be busy people with jobs and stuff?”

“I guess, but we should also still be kind of in the honeymoon phase, no? I can pretend fuck you less if you’d like?”

“Fine, 5 works”

“Weirdest place?” he asks, gaining confidence now that the topics been introduced

“In work?”

“Oh on the desk?” he raises his eyebrows as he asks,

“Perfect, the jet bathroom is probably too risky” I joke and he lets out a giggle.

After asking the obvious we can’t think of much else to ask. Well realistically I can think of a million things I’d like to ask about Spencer Reid’s sex life but I can’t look too enthusiastic.

‘You know what, I’m gonna look up some never have I ever questions and we’ll run through em? But I guess answer like you would at the party the other week? Fair?’ He asks, and it’s not a bad idea.

“Then I’m gonna need another glass of wine” it’s a joke, but I sort of mean it.

“Never have I ever slept with a co-worker” is the first statement on the list, we both laugh and take a sip.

“Never have I ever sent nudes” he asks

We both drink, and I’m honestly shocked. Mostly because I had no idea he knew how to work the camera on his phone.

“Dr. Reid?! I didn’t peg you as the type?”

“Evidently there’s a lot we don’t know about each other”

“Never have I ever used handcuffs during sex?” I ask this time

Neither of us drink but we both laugh,

“Y'know what fuck it, lets pretend that’s something we’ve done” he says, and then lowers his voice, “well it’s something I want to do anyway”

I don’t know if he means that generally or if he means that with me but I don’t want to let my mind go there again. It was hard enough to walk it back before. I stutter and snap myself back to reality. I start to get embarrassed and flush at the thoughts in my head, which seems to make Spencer strangely confident.

It’s starting to get late and we’ve got a flight to catch in the morning. “We should really get to bed” I want to stop the conversation in it’s tracks more than anything, We both stand up to get ready for bed. I’ve decided in advance that I’ll sleep on the sofa, I can’t get into bad habits.

Spencer stands up beside be and grabs me by the wrist to stop me on the way. “You can veto this if you want” his voice is soft but commanding, “but do you think we should kiss at some point, just so we don’t get caught off guard if the situation calls for it?” He’s still strangely confident, and maybe it’s because this isn’t a big deal to him, maybe it’s not even significant. But the proposition almost makes my heart stop. He must be able to see it in my face.

“Forget it, it was just an idea” he tries to brush it away but I shake my head a little too aggressively.

“NO. No, that’s a good idea” I swallow the lump in my throat as I say it.

He moves closer to me, a soft smile resting on his lips. “Alright, well, what kind of kiss do you want?” he whispers down to me and I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“What?”

“I can do a few, like this” he stops talking and grabs my face in his huge hands, his thumbs grazing the tops of my cheekbones. Our eyes meet as he creeps closer, his lips finally coming to rest on mine. The kiss is gentle, feather light, it would almost be only a peck if it weren’t for the way his hands moved against my skin. He pulls back quickly and looks straight into my eyes. His tongue darts out to lick across his bottom lip before he speaks again.

“That’s one.” he states, and before I can respond he lunges in again, more aggressive this time. His hands are still resting on me but now one of them has tucked itself into the hair on the side of my head. Gripping it and pulling just firm enough that he can tilt my head up towards him. His lips crash into mine with more urgency now, his mouth is already open on mine and I’m aware enough to kiss back this time. Our tongues move over one another and my hands find their way to his neck, settling against the hard muscle of his shoulders. Just as I’m getting into a rhythm he pulls back again and it almost feels like I can’t breathe without him so close.

“That’s another.” he smirks, “And then there’s this one” he says, his voice gravelly and his lips pink he pulls me in once again. This time his hands are on my waist and pull my whole body to his. He kisses me roughly this time, it’s almost sloppy but I know it’s calculated. My hands wrap around his neck again but quickly find their way into his hair, tangling in his soft curls and tugging sharply at the follicle, he groans ever so slightly into my mouth as his fingertips dig into my lower back. Pulling me tight in against him. One of his hands snakes further down and as it’s about to make contact with my ass he pulls back again.

We’ve both got the same dumbstruck look on our faces, swollen lips and hooded eyes, breathing ragged.

“Goodnight Y/N” is all he says before turning on his heel and making a bee line for his bedroom.

I stand in the same position in stunned silence for a few moments too long, when I can move again all I can think to do is clumsily reach for my phone so that I can text Garcia to let her know that I’m fucked.

——

The next morning is hazy. I wake up on the sofa with the smell of coffee lingering in the air. It’s a little burnt but it still smells perfect.

I get up and stumble to the kitchen, where Reid is standing hovering over the coffee pot, bracing himself against his kitchen counter.

“You alright there kid?” I joke in an effort to start the conversation off on a light footing.

His head whips up and I can see in his eyes that he regrets the harsh movement instantly. Scrunching his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Morning” he murmurs, “coffee?”

“Of course" I shoot back and take two mugs down from the cupboard where they’re stashed. I can see the orange one he always uses and I pull it down, handing it to him which he accepts with a sleepy smile.

We sit in near silence for a while sipping our coffee, he skims the paper while I watch him. He’s got no breakfast food in the house but that’s probably for the best, I’m not sure my stomach could handle it just yet. He lays the newspaper flat on the table and looks over to me, his face looks confused and tense, he loosens his jaw to speak, but nothing falls from his lips. He shuts it tight again, looking back down to his paper before speaking.

“Do you want to shower first or..?” he lets out softly, avoiding eye contact, scanning the words on the page.

“I’m easy” I blush at my own statement and move to retract it immediately. “I mean, I’m all packed so it shouldn’t take me long if you wanna go first?” I can see a smile creep up along his cheeks.

"Alright, I’ll jump in and I’ll let you know when I’m done” he stands up from the table and sips the dregs from his mug leaving it down by the sink.

I sit on my own, staring at the near cold coffee in my hands. I don’t really know what I expected this morning to be like. I didn’t think Spencer was going to want to talk about our kiss, or kisses, at length but I didn’t see him avoiding the subject at all.

Maybe he doesn’t care, or it’s just not a big deal to him at all. And I would just play this weekend as thought it meant nothing to me either. And maybe in time it wouldn’t.

——

It was hard to reconcile with that reality when Spencer was dozing on my shoulder on the plane. He was used to having the sofa to himself on the jet, curling his long body up so that it would just about fit. Half covering himself in a blanket, a book perched open on his chest as though he believed he would be able to continue reading while so exhausted. This was just a gentler version of the same Spencer. His hair was nestled into the crook of my neck.

Seizing the opportunity and maneuvering with as much stillness as I could, I pulled my phone out of the seat pocket in front of me. Opening the camera to face the both of us. From this angle I could see his serene face and ever so slightly parted lips, his lashes that brushed the tops of his cheeks. I took a single photo and put the phone away, leaving him to rest for the remainder of the flight. Letting my own head fall down gently on top of his. I hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep the night before, I couldn’t really. My head had been spinning for most of the night so it was probably better that I got some rest in now.

——

Our room is spacious, and needlessly decadent. Margot had booked several for the weekend and had apparently spared no expense.

“This is ours?” Spencer seemed hesitant to put down his bags, assuming we’d taken a wrong turn. I just dropped mine inside the door and headed straight for the bed letting myself fall down on my back with a soft thud.

“Mhmm” I hummed cheerily, “you’re just after getting too used the motel standard the BAU put us up in”

I spread myself out on the bed, feeling the soft linens against my skin before sitting up again. He’s put his things down now and starts to wander around. There’s one bed, it’s sprawling, huge, and high off the ground. Neither of us remark upon it at all this time, out of comfort or fear I’m really not sure.

He lays down on the opposite side, throwing himself back with the same dramatics I had. I lay down and turn to him so that we’re facing each other, upside down.

“So what’s the plan?” He hums,

“I’ve got 2 hours before I have to head down to Margot’s suite” he nods,

“Same here, I’ve got to meet Philip and his friends in the lobby around then too” his face looks tired as he says it. My hand reaches out without thinking about it and brushes some of his curls from his eyes.

“Maybe you should get some rest, even after the plane you still seem tired?” I suggest softly. His eyes drift closed as I push the hair back and his lips curved up in a small smile.

“You’re right, I just didn’t sleep super well last night, it’s no big deal” he sits up, pulling away from my hand as he speaks. Raising his arms up above his head he twists his back, stretching it out. I tilt my head a little so that I can see his muscles tense and relax under the fabric of his shirt.

“Well how does room service and lounging until we absolutely have to go sound to you?” I speak up towards the ceiling. He lets out a low groan as he finishes stretching.

“Ugh Y/N you have no idea how good that sounds” he almost moans and I thank god he’s not looking at me as he says it. I’m sure I can’t be hiding my emotions very well.

“Perfect!” I sit up and chirp, “I’ll grab the phone”

I order us far too much food and we sit on pillows on the floor to eat. Sitting cross legged facing one another as though we’re at a grand dining table rather than a tiny coffee table.

“Tell me not to freak out” Spencer says, stabbing his fork into the slice of cake between us.

“You? Freak out? Since when?” I feign shock, placing a forkful of cake into my own mouth.

“Shut up” he throws a balled up napkin at me, smiling now, “I’m serious though, what if I mess something up? I’m gonna be on my own tonight!” He whines just a little but pulls it back.

“Spencer” I reach out for his hand across the coffee table and he takes it, “you’re not gonna mess up, and you’re not gonna be alone. You’re going to be hanging with the guys for like 2 hours tops then we’ll come and meet you. You can make it through 2 hours without me” I say the last part as a joke, and he laughs a little, but it feels forced.

Part of me feels bad, or guilty maybe, that he’s here now because of me. That I’m the source of his worry and stress. I want to tell him he can leave, he doesn’t have to come if he’s worried about it. But I’m also selfish, I don’t want him to leave. More to the point, I don’t want him _to want_ to leave.

“If you say so” he says with a light laugh before catching the face of his watch, “oh, we should really start getting ready” he says and lets go of my hand, making a move to stand up. His legs are long and twisted underneath him and he groans as he tries to get feeling back to them.

“You go grab a shower first, I’ll tidy up here” I gesture toward the table and he nods. Walking past me to get to his suitcase, stopping for just a second to leaning down to ruffle my hair playfully.

“Hey!” I shout after him as he giggles.

I take the time to clean up and begin unpacking, placing my suitcase at the end of the bed and scouring through it to find my outfit for the evening. I’d bought the dress weeks ago while shopping with Garcia. It was lilac and satin, nothing extravagant but it was a little more revealing than what I’d typically wear. A square necked slip dress with a slit up the thigh. It felt appropriate for a Vegas night out and Penelope was all too encouraging.

Rummaging through the case I came across the parcel she’d given me, I hadn’t given it much thought, throwing it into my case before leaving. I took out the tissue wrapped gift, excited to finally open it as per Garcia’s instruction. I really should’ve known better.

The delicate paper and ribbon was concealing a set of carefully folded lingerie. A balconette bra, panties, suspender belt, stockings, the works. All lilac. The same lilac as my dress, she’d planned this. I lay them out on the bed next to my dress, considering my options.

I didn’t get much time before the bathroom door opened and Reid sauntered out. Steam billowing out behind him and a towel in his hands tousling at his curls. I could see him look towards the bed, towards my outfit. I felt the blush crawling up my neck to my cheeks and pulled the clothes into a heap in my arms.

“I’m gonna hop in now” I rushed out and scurried past him to the bathroom. He let out a shallow breath but didn’t reply before I could shut the door.

After washing the day off of me I had to get a move on or I was going to be late. Trying on the underwear it surprisingly fit like a glove. I’ve got no idea how Penelope knew my size but it was like it had been made for me. I gave myself a moment to admire myself in the mirror before taking a photo with my phone. Maybe I’d send it to Garcia later by way of a thank you. I had to rush now, putting on a small amount of makeup and styling my hair as best I could. The dress was a small struggle, the zipper was a little stiff and I could hardly get it past my waist not for lack of trying.

When I left the bathroom Spencer was lying back on the bed, legs dangling off the edge of the matress, waiting. He looked as though he’d been ready for a while, he had a book held above him in outstretched arms. When he heard the door creak he sat up on his elbows to see me. I dumped my clothes from earlier into my case and walked towards him.

“Hey Spence, could I uh, get a hand?” I turn around so that he can see the gaping zipper along my back and gesture slightly with my thumbs, “I can’t… my arms are too short”

He lets out a small exhale through his nostrils like a laugh, but his face is serious when I turn to him. He stands up and lines himself up behind me. Instead of pulling the zipper up, his hands gather my hair into a sort of ponytail and drape it over one side of my neck so that it doesn’t catch. The gesture is sweet and gentle and it makes my heart clench. He then moves one hand to my hip pressing down firmly to steady the fabric. While the other reaches for the zip.

I’m hyper-aware that he must be able to see the lace of the extravagant underwear across my back and I almost feel embarrassed. Who am I even dressed up for? He pulls it up my back until the dress it’s secured to my torso like a second skin.

Before he pulls away he gently moves his head down and places a featherlight kiss to the exposed side of my neck, just where it meets my shoulder, and moves my hair back into place.

“I should probably start getting into character now” he says against my ear before I can turn around.

“Yeah” I try to force a chuckle, “we’re already running late so we should really hop to it” I start to move towards the door and he follows behind me, grabbing my hand gently as we walk towards the elevator together.

Margot’s suite is 2 floors down and we get on in silence. Once the doors shut he turns to me, “Never have I ever had sex in an elevator” he chuckles. I don’t have any time to respond before the doors open and several members of the grooms party pile in, whooping and cheering, greeting Spencer with huge smiles. I move to slide around them and leave when I’m instead pulled back by the hand still holding mine.

Spencer drags me in and uses his other hand to hold my jawbone, tilting my face up to his and kissing me firmly, his tongue swipes across my lips gently and I part them for him as his hand moves further into my hair. Before I can really get into it he’s gone again. Pulling himself off of me completely and letting my hand go.

“I’ll see you later love” he says and winks. The groomsmen make a lot of noise that I’m not sure I can even hear. There’s almost a ringing in my ears as I stumble out of the elevator to find Margot’s room. I bring my fingertips up to see if I can feel the tingling of my lips against them but it must be my imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm chronic for updating on here, I always seem to remember when I'm away from my laptop.
> 
> Enjoy a dump of chapters 5, 6, and 7!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N and Spencer play the role of a couple in Vegas and lines get a little blurry

I can hear Margot’s suite before I can see it. The bridal party must’ve started drinking earlier than I thought.

One of the bridesmaids, Beth, let’s me in when I knock. “Y/N!” She shouts and pulls me into a hug, “You guys Y/N is here” she calls back towards the room and it’s greeted by cheers.

I’m still a little out of it when I see everyone and they must be able to tell. “Ohh somebody’s looking a little flushed” Margot says with a grin. I wave my hand to dismiss her.

“You’re seeing things” I joke, she shakes her head but the accusation makes my cheeks heat up.

“What time did you guys check in at?” She asks innocently, so maybe I’ve dodged it.

“Uh, a couple hours ago, 5-ish?” I reply as I take a glass of champagne from a tray on the table.

“Ah, so you guys spent the whole afternoon fucking?” With that my eyes blow wide, and I can feel the heat radiating off me now.

“Margot!” I shout, obviously flustered, I’m making this so much worse.

“Look at her she’s all shy” Beth calls out, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. One of the other bridesmaids, Jess, seems to feel at least a little sympathy for me, or maybe just my sobriety in the current situation.

“Aw come on you guys, leave the poor girl alone, you know you’re both just jealous” she waves her hand and beckons me over to the seat beside her and I take it.

“I really am, those two are so cute together. You’ll meet Spencer later” Margot softens, having mortified me enough already.

“Well from what she’s told us he sounds like a sweetheart” Jess pats my back gently.

“He is” I say, and I don’t have to fake it, “I really like him. We work together all week and I still have to stop myself from spending the entire weekend with him. He keeps my favorite snacks in his apartment for me, and leaves me little gifts on my desk, he kisses the top of my head when he hugs me…” I trail off as I’m speaking because I’m not lying about any of it. He really does do those things, and he does those things when no ones around to see them. Like it’s not even a performance. What if I wasn’t insane and he liked me in the same way I liked him?

“That’s cute and all but what about the sex?” Beth pries again and it snaps me back to reality. I don’t have time to second guess myself and a blurt out one of the stories Spencer and I had joked about the night before. Right before he’d kissed me.

“Well last week we had to work late and we had sex on Spencer’s desk” I state it so matter of fact that it doesn’t even sound scandalous. I kind of just wish it were true. “Excuse me for a second” I stand up and leave them to sit with the ‘story’ while I make my way back into the hall.

I pull my phone from my purse with such urgency I almost drop it on the floor. I call Garica and I’m almost shouting the second she picks up. “You knew!” and it’s just received with a laugh.

“I hoped!” she counters a moment later.

“When did you figure it out?” I think I might be angry, but it’s probably the adrenaline more than anything.

“Would you believe me if I said it was the second he agreed to your little proposition?” I shake my head as though she can see it through the receiver.

“I call bullshit, he’s hated me since I started with the BAU”

“Nuh-uh!” Garcia says, passion evident in her voice, “He’s been intimidated by you since you started with the BAU! And he’s also had a huge sickly sweet crush on you! I just thought you’d piece it together with the way he looks at you but nope” she scoffs a little, “Some profiler you are.” and I can hear her laugh at her own joke.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I say more to myself than anything, it’s exasperated and I almost feel stupid.

“So have you boned yet?” she asks, shameless.

“Garcia!”

“Hey, I’m just trying to be a good friend here, did he like my gift?”

“No Garcia, because he hasn’t seen it, because we haven’t boned”

“Ugh, shame, that’s his favorite color”

“Fuck off” I whisper down the line and she giggles at me.

“Keep me posted sweet cheeks” I can hear the dramatic kiss she blows before she hangs up and I’m left standing in the hallway in stunned silence.

When I finally feel ready to go back into the room I feel like I’m filled to the brim with adrenaline, or maybe it’s anxiety, I’m just not really sure what to do with all the information I’m still processing.

I still feel borderline queasy when we’re calling a cab so we can join the groomsmen at whatever club they’ve been at. I down the remainder of my champagne and the anxiety starts to turn into something resembling giddy excitement. I can’t wait to see Spencer, as if I hadn’t spent almost the entirety of the past 24 hours alone with him.

The club is huge and sprawling and I can feel the bass thudding in my chest. At least I’m pretty sure that it’s not just my heart. We make our way through the crowd to the guys, they’ve got a small cordoned off section upstairs. The second I catch Spencer’s eye his face lights up.

Standing up off the couch he makes a bee-line straight for me. Arms coming down to envelope me in a nearly too-tight hug. He leans back a little before pressing a kiss to my cheek enthusiastically.

“How was your evening?” I smile up at him, there’s a light layer of sweat coating his forehead and his hair’s chaotic. He lets go of me but doesn’t pull away, he just leaves one of his arms snaked around my waist. “Not too bad I hope?” I encourage.

“It’s actually been alright” he leans in so I can hear, “it’s better now that you’re here. I was getting a little sick of the locker-room talk” I visibly cringe as he says it and bring a hand up to cover my face.

“Oh god! I hope it wasn’t too gross”

“Nah, I just had to improvise a little” he just laughs before leaning in even closer, right next to my ear this time, “If anyone asks we fucked in the shower before we came out today?”

I have to catch my breath because the way he said that straight into my ear was definitely not just to relay some information. He looks at me, and it seems like he might be trying to gauge a reaction. I smirk and motion with my finger for him to come down to my level. With my new burst of confidence I whisper into his ear this time.

“Well, in case anyone happens to ask you, last week we had to work late so you bent me over and fucked me into your desk”

When he pulls away there’s something urgent in his eyes. I know the others are looking at us so I use that as my excuse. I let my hands wander up to his hair and tug on it gently to bring him back to me. Catching his lips in a rough open-mouthed kiss. His tongue eases into my mouth, exploring, tasting, deepening, my hands continuing to pull at his hair. A little harsher now. His hands leave my waist and wander down, gently pawing at the curve of my ass before grabbing it roughly. After a minute we break apart and he gathers his breath again.

He looks startled and leans in close enough so that no one could hear, “What was that for?” he whispers.

I stand up on my tippy toes, “For being the best pretend boyfriend anyone could ask for” and I punctuate the sentiment with a peck on his cheek.

The next few hours are spent dancing for the most part. When I can coax Spencer to join in he’s better at it than he seems to realize. Or he’s just well able to follow my lead. As the night goes on his hands roam all over me, starting on my waist, swaying with me from side to side, pulling me closer. Down to my hips, holding them in position next to his own, or loosely resting on either side of them, following their movements as I danced.

During the few times that we would sit, to drink or talk his hand would rest on my thigh, exposed from the draping slit along the side of my dress. Each time his fingers would creep precariously further up, and I wasn’t about to stop him. I was hardly any better.

I would let my hands rest on his chest, slipping under the unbuttoned-too-low shirt to graze my fingertips against the smooth exposed skin. Or I’d leave my hands on his neck, rubbing my thumb along the muscles there and let them drift up to run through his hair every so often. Each time I would leave to get a drink I’d excuse myself by pulling him down by his collar to whisper it in his ear.

We were playing with each other, and I just hoped we both knew it wasn’t for anyone else’s sake but our own.

By the time we were closing out for the evening and grabbing a cab back to the hotel I started to feel weird. There was a pit in my stomach, that felt a lot like dread. Dread that we wouldn’t be able to touch each other once we got out and there was no longer an audience.

——

I walk in first and Spencer shuts the door behind me. We haven’t spoken since we left the club. Both riding in the cab, up in the elevator, and down the hall to the room in complete silence.

There’s a shyness to both of us now. The bravery from earlier’s been zapped away but we’re still not behaving normally. We’re both awkward and a little tense. Unlike that night at my parents, or Spencer’s apartment, there’s meaning attached to this bed. This one bed. We’d sat on it together just a few hours earlier but we were both so reluctant now. Instead we just look anywhere but at one another as we stand next to it. Neither of us want to break that barrier.

Strangely in this moment I can’t help but think of Garcia. What she’d said to me earlier, and how disappointed she’d be if I told her the story of this night and it ended here. If I let this moment go to waste. So I turn around, and present my back to Spencer, pulling my hair over one of my shoulders just as he’d done earlier.

“Could you give me a hand?” I turn my head around slightly to make brief eye contact with him. He doesn’t say anything, he just steps closer, resting one hand on my hip and pulling the zip down with the other. Pulling it the whole way down so that it slacks completely and the straps slouch off my shoulders.

Spencer moves closer and I can feel his hot breath on my neck right before I can feel him kiss that same spot that he’d kissed earlier. That same spot on my neck that felt as though it had been on fire all night. I let out a soft moan at the contact, because this time I can, and he takes it as a sign of encouragement. Helping the straps of my dress fall completely, he tugs the fabric down so that it falls, pooling at my feet so that I can step out of it, kicking off my heels as I do.

I can’t help but feel vulnerable standing shorter now next to a fully clothed Spencer as his eyes roam all around me, having no idea where to finally rest. They eventually come to a stop, and firmly lock with my own. His gaze feels like it’s holding me in place.

“Y/N” he exhales, barely a breath, and his chest falls as he speaks, “I…” his brows furrow as though he has no idea what he even opened his mouth to say. So I try to venture a guess.

“I know” I say and I surprise myself that I managed to even say anything. I must’ve guessed right because I barely register him grabbing me by the waist and pulling me in. His lips connecting with mine with heated urgency as though we’ve never done this before. His mouth is open and his tongue is frantically searching for my own. When he pulls back his lips are swollen and a little pink, and he looks utterly perfect. His tongue darts across his bottom lip as his eyes look down to my own flushed pout.

He moves his hands up so that they’re cradling my face, “I’m— I—” he breathes out, like he’s not capable of speaking the words. His fingers trail down, skimming the lace on the side of my bra, along the suspender belt, and coming to rest on the side of my panties. He loops his finger into the elastic along my hip and pulls it out just a little before letting it snap back against my skin.

“I like this” he whispers into my ear, finally getting out a sentence, and I can’t help but moan.

“Shut up and take off this stupid shirt” I move to start undoing the buttons and he lets me, his hands roaming any and all of my exposed skin, breaking contact only so that I can pull the sleeves down his arms.

Once his bare chest is in front of me my lips start to roam all over it, pulling him close with so much urgency that my fingernails dig into his back and I drag them along the skin . He groans at that, “Fuck Y/N”, his head falls back a little and I catalogue that information for later. My lips leave gentle kisses along his collar bones and I roam up to his neck, as far as I can reach and start to suck at the skin there. I’m probably a little too harsh but I don’t want to stop with the noises he’s making. “You’re gonna kill me” he groans and his hands move to stop me. One of them resting against the hair at the back of my head grabs a handful and yanks me sharply back and I can’t help but moan.

“I’ll need to wear a fucking turtleneck on Monday if you don’t quit that” he jokes, but his tone is still simmering with tension. He looks at my hooded eyes for a moment and smirks gently, giving my hair an investigative tug. It’s sharp, and pulls my neck with it so that I’m looking right up at him. I sigh and let my eyes close at the feeling.

“You like it when I pull your hair like that baby?” his tone is playful but commanding, and he called me fucking baby, so I nod as best as I can. “I fucking knew it”

His lips connect with mine again before he pushes me against the bed until the backs of my knees connect with it and I’m falling back onto it. Spencer coming to hover above me. He leans down and starts to trail sloppy kisses along my neck, down to my clavicle, the tops of my breasts before he pulls down on the lace cups and lets out a soft “fuck” at the sight.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this Y/N” he whispers, and takes one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking it gently into a hard point, letting me writhe beneath him. “Kissing your perfect lips, your perfect neck, your perfect tits” his breathing is shallow and almost forced, but I’m sure mine can’t sound much better. At least he’s able to talk. “How many times I’ve thought about fucking you, your perfect body” he moves down licking and sucking tiny bruises along my stomach, grabbing my hips roughly to push me further up the bed.

He climbs on top of me fully now, hovering only a few centimeters from my face. I catch him off guard by resting my palm against the front of his slacks, feeling the bulge straining to get out and squeezing it gently. When his eyes roll back and his mouth hangs open above mine I gather the confidence to speak again.

“These need to come off right now” I say it as I let go and reach for his belt buckle. He helps this time, opening it to slide it through the loops before throwing it across the room.

“Well, you could’ve kept the belt here” I pout, and I’m only half joking. He stands up off the bed and shimmy’s out of his pants giving me a painfully teasing view of the outline of his cock, constrained by the elastic.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” he says, standing by the bed to just look me up and down.

“Right back at ya” I smile sitting up on my elbows against the pillows to take in the sight, “get over here” I sit up and reach out to him. He eagerly obliges, joining me on the bed.

His lips and hands are all over me again, tugging the straps of my bra down and grabbing my breasts roughly, “off, off” he mutters and I sit up ever so slightly so that he can unclasp it and toss it off the side of the bed, “so perfect, fuck” he sighs as he takes one of my breasts in his mouth again. I’m moaning into the dark room already when his fingers begin to tease gently between my legs. They slide over the wet patch forming there before cupping it roughly and forcing a strangled moan from my throat.

“You’re already soaking wet for me baby?” there was baby again. He was going to kill me. He sits up and looks down at me with those soft hazel eyes. Even when they were filled with lust they were still so delicate. “Mmhmm” I hum, “It’s all for you” I breathe out and that was definitely the right answer.

“Fuck” he groans, pushing the lace to one side so that he can gather the wetness along his finger. Running it through my folds, doing nothing in particular but getting used to the feeling of me, and I still thought I was going to combust. His finger starts to move against my clit forcing a yelp from deep in my throat before he moves it back down, pushing it inside me so painstakingly slow. Sliding it out and back in lackadaisically before adding a second finger. Pumping them in and out with more fervor each time, curving them up to hit a spot inside of me that made my back arch off the bed. He snakes his other arm under my back right away, holding me up just a little so he can dig his fingernails into my side and pull me up, closer to him.

The sensation’s gone too soon as he pulls his fingers away, bringing them up to his lips and sucking them into his mouth completely. Groaning at the taste. And I think I’m certain that it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. The way his cheeks hollow out around the digits, and the eye contact he keeps with me the entire time he draws them in and out of his mouth.

“You taste better than I ever could’ve imagined” he says, leaning into me for a kiss, his tongue forcing itself against my own so that I can taste myself on him. And it’s intoxicating.

He has to break apart the kiss or I probably never would. As he pulls off me and looks down to me his pupils are blown wide and his eyelids are heavy. I push into his side with all my strength and he topples down beside me almost leaning off the edge of the bed.

“Ah,” he whines, “what was that for?”

I pull myself up off my back, moving over so that I can position myself on top of him, resting on my knees either side of his hips.

“Because it’s my turn” I whisper, low and heated.

I start by licking up his neck to place sloppy kisses along the column of his throat, feeling the vibrations of his groans against my lips. I slowly move down, nipping at his collar bones, down his bare chest maneuvering my body further along his till I’m right at his hips. I place a hand on either side of them tucking my fingers into the elastic of his briefs.

I look up to him for reassurance and he nods. I start to pull them down his legs, revealing his hard cock that’s been straining to break free for too long. Once they’re discarded I return my attention to him, gripping the base of his cock from where it’s fallen against his stomach, and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Fuckkkk” Spencer moans from the edge of the bed and I smile to myself.

Bringing my lips down I plant a kiss at the swollen tip, opening my mouth and letting my tongue slip out to swirl along the slit there, gathering the pre-cum that’s been leaking from it. I can see the muscles in Spencer’s stomach tense and clench at the contact, his breathing already heavier than it was a few seconds ago.

I move my tongue down, licking along the underside of the shaft, grazing against the veins there before resting at the head again. I open my mouth, hollowing out my cheeks so that I can take him in, inch by inch, my lips tight around him. Spencer pulls himself up as I take his cock, watching as I push my head as far down as I can so that my lips are almost the the base, I can feel the tears welling in my eyes but the cries coming from Spencer are too beautiful for me to care. I continue to bob up and down, setting a rhythm, feeling him squirm beneath me each time he hit the back of my throat.

When I dart my eyes up he’s sitting propped up on his elbows, still watching me. He reaches one of his hands out to rest on the back of my head, grabbing a fistful of hair as he does and tugging on it. I moan and the vibrations pulse around him and his grip on my hair only tightens, digging in at the roots and pulling my head roughly off of him.

“If you keep doing that I’m gonna cum in your pretty little mouth” there’s something about hearing such filthy words coming from such an innocent face that lights me on fire.

I sit up on my knees to look at him, I make deliberate eye contact as I wipe the mixture of spit and pre-cum that’s formed along my chin with the back of my hand.

“Would that really be so bad Doc?” with that he lunges at me, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me down. He positions me beneath him, my head almost teetering off the side of the bed.

“Fuck, Y/N” he presses fevered kisses along my exposed neck while one of his hands wanders down between my legs, nimble fingers forcing their way into my underwear with no notice. Grazing along my folds before shoving into me once again. “Some other time I’ll cum down your throat, but right now I’ve got other plans” he says as he pulls away from me.

“Will I get a condom?” He asks unsure, but I shake my head.

“I’m on the pill” I reassure him and he breaks out in a grin.

Repositioning himself between my legs, he slides one of his hands underneath the curve of my back, pulling my hips off the bed ever so slightly so that the can pull my underwear off, exposing me completely. He leaves his arm beneath me and uses the other one to brace himself above me before slowly thrusting into me.

I can feel each and every inch of him as he glides in slowly at first, his head coming down to suck at my neck. I can feel him everywhere, the sensation of fullness seeping into me so that I could feel the warmth from him in every nerve. Before I’ve even gotten a chance to get used to the sensation he’s pulled out again, thrusting his hips back into mine, sharper and rougher this time, again, and again. Building to a relentless pace.

“You’re so fucking tight Y/N” he moans against my ear, his arm coming down to rest behind my head, grabbing the hair that’s falling off the edge of the mattress. I let my head fall back off the side, exposing my throat to him as he pulls my hair. “Taking my cock so well, so fucking perfect” he sucks a bruise at the base of my neck as he pounds into me. The filthy, wet sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

I could feel the tension building in my abdomen as he thrust in and out of me, the arm that had been propping up my hips had snaked away without me noticing, my back now arching against the bed of it’s own accord. His hand made its way between us, ghosting over the sensitive bundle of nerves, I almost scream at the contact so he rubs against it harsher.

“Fuck, oh my god” I whimper and I can hear him chuckle against the crook of my neck where his face is buried, he pulls away to look at me as I crane my neck upwards.

“Do you like that baby?” his voice is gravely and perfect, his fingers and his hips matching pace, I wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Fuck yes Spencer, you feel so good” I whine without meaning to and he groans deep and low and I can feel his movements growing sloppier, he was close too.

“Ugh Y/N, say that again” I look up at him and this curls bouncing around his face, eyes closed, lips slightly parted and I can do nothing but oblige.

“Fuck Spencer, keep going, I’m almost there” It escapes my lips and it’s louder and higher pitched than I’d even planned on saying it. But it feels like I’m not even in control of my body now. Spencer is.

His hips and his fingers start to move more erratically, thrusting roughly into me, “Cum with me” he mutters through harsh breaths just before we both do. The coil in my stomach tightening before snapping, all of the tension in my body leaving in the same instant. I can feel Spencer too, spilling into me, his hips thrusting once or twice more, nursing us both down from our highs.

He pulls himself out of me gently as he moves away and I feel the loss of contact in my chest immediately. But I don’t have the energy to do anything other than lie still, my head still falling off the edge of the bed. Spencer returns a moment later, his briefs and a t-shirt on already.

“C’mere” he pulls me up the bed to rest against the pile of pillows by the headboard. I must look as sweaty as him, hair all tangled, neck bruised completely fucked out. He takes damp washcloth to my thighs, cleaning up the mess between them before it had a chance to dry.

I grab his wrist lightly before he can pull it away and whisper a small “thank you” he just smiles at me, saccharin sweet.

“Arms up” he says, bringing his hands to my elbows to help them up above my head and pulls a t-shirt over them, covering my bare torso. It’s big, and well worn, and it’s certainly not one of my shirts.

“Underwear?” he asks me and I just shake my head and beckon him in beside me.

“Just get in here” he nods and climbs in beside me, pulling me in close so my face is in his chest. I can smell sweat and sex on him and I don’t care, as far as I’m concerned it’s the best smell in the world. I wish I could properly savor it but my body’s shutting down on me. In utterly desperate need of rest.

“Goodnight Doc” I giggle, well more like an exhale, into his chest. I can feel him plant a kiss on the top of my head.

“Night Y/N” he breathes and we’re both gone.

–– ––

When I wake up it’s to the gentle rustle coming from behind me as Spencer stirs. I can feel him pulling me in even closer somehow so that his breath is warm against the back of my neck. “Good morning sleepy” he whispers close to my ear. His voice is a little croaky and tired but that just makes it all the more endearing. I smile to myself at the feeling of his arms around me, gently tracing patterns along my stomach. It’s all a little too perfect that I feel like I must still be trapped in sleep. I’ll wake up in a few minutes once again and he’ll just be gone.

I stretch and let out a yawn to pull myself awake this time and maneuver around slowly so that I’m looking at Spencer now. Looking into his sleepy eyes, and his hair that’s still so disheveled from our activities the night before. I can only imagine how wrecked I must look. I never took my make-up off last night. No doubt it’s smeared among several different places all over the bed, including halfway down my own face. Without thinking too much my hand comes up to cover my eyes and Spencer lets out a soft chuckle.

“Are you doing alright, how’s the head this morning?” It took me a second to piece together what he meant, but then it clicked. We really had drank a lot the night before. Probably more than we should’ve, but I didn’t feel hungover. And I don’t think I was drunk. That’s not why I slept with Spencer anyway. But what if that was why he slept with me?

I take in a deep sigh, my hand still poised in front of the mascara that must’ve been all over my cheeks. “Yeah, we got through that champagne last night huh?” I groan, trying to sit up when my head does actually start to hurt a little. I needed water. As I try to sit Spencer’s arms pull away from me and nestle in closer to his sides and never mind, I didn’t really need water, I needed his hands on me again.

He sits up himself, pulling the duvet up a little higher than necessary to cover his bare chest. “Yeah, you’re right” he agrees, rubbing at his temple slightly, “We probably should’ve cut ourselves off a little sooner” he chuckles, but it sounds forced in a way I can’t really explain. And it really feels like he regrets this. He can’t really seem to look at me, and in all honesty I can’t bring myself to look at him either.

There’s a moment of silence between us that’s a lot more tense than it should be and I’m just trying to grab on to anything at all I could say to ease the awkward air that had settled in the room.

“Yeah, well, if anyone knows the saying” I start, “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?” I shrug my shoulders as I say it but can’t help but wince to myself once it’s out of my mouth. Lingering in the air between us. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds be before he grabs his watch from the nightstand next to him, stretching it over his wrist.

“Yeah I guess.” he agrees sternly, “We gotta leave for our flight in the next half hour or so, mind if I take the first shower?” he asks but he doesn’t look at me. Standing up from under the covers already, turning away from me to grab clean clothes from his suitcase.

“Uh huh, yeah,” I gulp down the lump in my throat, “go ahead” All I want to say is come back, come back and lie down beside me. Look at me. Look at me like you looked at me last night. Please. All I do say though is, “I’ve got to pack anyway” before he disappears into the bathroom, leaving me alone in bed.

I sit there for a little too long, I don’t really have any packing to do, and in all honesty I don’t want to shower either. If I could live with this smell of Spencer on me forever I would. I couldn’t really move anyway, my stomach was clenching in the way it usually would before you threw up, or had a panic attack. Had I just ruined everything, had I been throwing myself at Spencer? Were we both just tipsy, and horny? Or was he and I was all to eager to go along with it? The thought made me feel even worse.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N and Spencer are tragic communicators

The flight home is cagey, the entire journey is really. Spencer sits beside me on the plane but he’s got a book that he’s engrossed in the entire time. He must’ve read it twice over by the time we land in a bid to avoid talking to me. And he must really want to avoid any interaction with me because he tries to grab a cab back home. The line is long and there’s torrential downpour so I manage to convince him to take the ride home with me.

“I’ve already imposed enough on you this weekend don’t you think Y/N?” I shake my head. Every second we debate this is a second longer that we both get drenched. 

“Never, c’mon it’s on my way”

“Fine” he agrees but there’s still a reluctance that permeates his words.

The drive isn’t long, but it’s not short enough to be comfortable either. I try to start a conversation a few times but I’m met with resistance.

“What did you guys get up to last night anyway?”

“Nothing, talking. Drinking” he leans on the last word so heavily that I feel like he has to be telling me something. He regrets it.

He regrets last night and I went and threw myself at him. I’ve ruined this.

All I can think of as I pull into the parking lot of his building is how he’d looked at me the night before. And the sharp contrast of how he wouldn’t look at me now.

I pull the car to a standstill but he doesn’t move to get out right away like I assumed he would. Like I’d been dreading for the whole ride home. Instead he just looks absentmindedly into the dark, desolate parking garage as though we were still moving.

“Spence?” I chance, and as he turns his eyes are looking straight at mine for the first time since that morning with almost the same expression but there’s an anger, or maybe even a sadness behind them now.

“Y/N?” he replies, exasperated.

I don’t really know what I opened my mouth to say. I just wanted his attention even an ounce of it. But I was as shocked as Spencer was at what tumbled from my lips.

“Does this car still count as Vegas?”

It hangs in the air for a moment and Spencer’s eyebrows knit together before he understands what I mean. Before I understand what I mean. And his head begins to nod furiously.

Before I can register what’s happening his hand is planted firmly on the back of my neck. Pulling me into him over the dashboard, his lips crashing into mine in a sharp, urgent kiss. His mouth is already open when it collides with mine, desperate and hungry and I can’t help but meet him with he same ferocity. If this was the last time I would get to kiss him I would have to make it count.

When his lips break away from mine his eyes are closed, but his hand is still grasping my neck. “Come here” he mutters under his breath. When I don’t move right away his tone changes. “Now” he says, and it’s not much louder, but his voice, and his face, are stern and commanding as he rests his hands in his lap, waiting.

I unbuckle my seatbelt faster than I’ve done, perhaps ever, and I clamber across the console so that I'm sitting in his lap, facing him. My dress is already hiked up now, pooling around my upper thighs from the strain. Spencer’s hand finds the back of my neck once again and pulls me in close to him for another kiss. Even rougher than before, his teeth catch my bottom lip before letting go so that his tongue can glide against my own, tasting every inch.

I can’t pull my lips from his for long enough to decide if this is a good idea or not. Before I can try and break the contact Spencers hand creeps up into my hair, grabbing a handful at the back of my head and pulling on it sharply so that my neck is craned back to look at the roof of the car. While one hand holds me in place like that, where I’d have to strain to even look at him, his other hand begins to nestle in between my legs. Pulling my dress up even more so that he can see my underwear and press his fingers firmly against the outside where I was certain I was already soaking through the cotton.

“You’re fucking wet already” he groans, “So fucking needy” the last part is low, almost would’ve been a whisper if he hadn't moved himself right next to my ear to say it. Purposeful and severe.

“Is it because I pulled your hair, or was it my fingernails in your thighs?” he continued to whisper, his voice aggressive but low, “Or is it that you like being told what to do?” I let out a moan at is words. I could’ve said all of it, but the answer was really just ‘you’ it’s because you’re the one that’s doing these things to me.

“If you like being told what to do so much then take off your fucking panties” he commands. So I move to do as told, I don’t have the time or the space to make it look sexy, awkwardly maneuvering above him in the passenger seat to slide them down my legs and off of me. I held them in my hand once they were off, positioning myself comfortably in Spencer’s lap once again.

“Good girl” he breathed and I moaned without meaning to and saw his lips lift into a smirk.

“I am a good girl” I spoke in an effort to keep that smile there even a second longer.

His hands pulled up my dress once again so that it was hovering around my waist and brought one of his hands down to my centre, teasing gently, spreading my wetness around my folds, gently ghosting his fingertips across the bundle of nerves there with agonizing softness. He trailed two fingers around me until they were slick, pulling them back to admire their gleam against the soft lights inside the car.

He brought them up to my mouth, “open” he commanded and my jaw went slack instantly. He placed the fingers inside, pressing down gently on my tongue and my lips clasped around them, my cheeks hollowing out as though it were something other than his fingers there. I savored the taste on my tongue, and the lust brimming in his eyes. Pupils dark and blown completely wide, trying to take in as much as possible.

When he pulled the fingers out from my lips with a ‘pop’ he looked almost disappointed. He contemplated for a moment, eyes landing on my white cotton panties still firmly grasped in one of my fists.

“Y’know Y/N, I think I prefer you when you’re like that” I wasn’t sure what he meant until he grabbed the wad of damp cotton and shoved it in my gaping mouth stifling any words I was about to ask.

“Quiet” he moaned against my neck, sucking it gently before baring his teeth and biting into it roughly, enough that I knew it was going to bruise. I wished I wasn’t so excited at the thought. A strangled cry got cut short at the base of my throat, muffled by the fabric. “Perfect” Spencer admired, the noise or the bruise I wasn’t sure.

He wastes no time reaching back down to unbutton his trousers and pull out his cock. It looks painfully hard in his hand and it’s leaking at the tip. Shifting in his seat so that he’s lined up at my entrance he lifts up my hips just a little before thrusting his own up into me sharply, I lower myself down so that he’s fully sheathed inside me and I can’t help but whine at the feeling. It gets muffled by the fabric in my mouth but enough noise escapes for Spencer to be unhappy.

“I said quiet” he emphasizes his words by placing one of his hands on my throat. Involuntarily my walls tense and clench around him. He looks into my eyes, still deadly serious.

“You like it when I do this?” he asks tightening his long fingers around my throat, “You like it when I touch you like I own you?” I nod as much as his grip will allow and he seems satisfied, but still removes his hand again, bringing them both down to my hips now. Part of me wants to spit out the underwear and cry out just so he’ll do that again. Grab me and force me to look at him while he’s inside me. Like he’s got fully command of me, but who am I kidding, he does.

Digging his fingers into my hips with force he grabs me and pulls me up roughly before almost slamming me back down. I have to close my eyes and focus so that I don’t scream. I start to move myself but he continues to guide me, forcing me up and down his cock as his ferocious pace.

It feels like a movie, the windows start to fog up and the vigorous movements, the sweat and the panting coming from both of us as we move with each other. I have to brace my hands against the roof of the car and he moves my hips backwards at an angle so that he can hit the spot inside me that makes my toes curl and my head fall backwards.

One of Spencer’s hands loosens it’s hold on my hip and starts to rub at my clit, slowly circling at first before building and building. He must take sympathy at my stifled cries because he uses the other had to remove the underwear from my mouth finally.

“Fuck Spencer” is all I can manage with my newfound voice. I let my head loll forward and my eyes open, he’s looking at me intently, eyes dark and serious. He brings his hand to my throat again as I rock up and down on him, bracing myself on the seat behind him now.

“Does that feel good baby?” he asks, and his tone is just a little angry

“It feels so fucking good” I moan and his eyes close softly for just a second

“Who’s making you feel this fucking good?” they shoot open once again and his grip starts to tighten, his other hand working between my legs more intently than before.

“You Spencer, fuck, you make me feel so good” I cry out as he forces his hips up into me with more and more sporadic movements. His grip on me loosens just a little so that he can move his hadn't around to grab a handful of my hair and pull me right next to him. His lips catch mine in an uncoordinated kiss, his tongue tangling against my own with fervor. He pulls back just enough so that our faces are right in front of one another.

“Never forget it” he whispers and pulls me right into another sloppy kiss as my orgasm rips through me, I moan against his mouth, the vibrations running through both of us and he’s doing the same just a moment later, I can feel him spilling inside of me as he slumps against the seat and I fall against him, chest to chest.

We sit like that for a minute, or 5, my head buried in the crook of his neck, both of us exhausted and sweaty beyond comprehension. I want to savor the smell of him, the feeling of being this close to him. Even the feeling of him still soft inside me. But I also wasn’t sure if I could even move. I felt like I couldn’t look him in the eye.

Once we moved this wasn’t ‘Vegas’ anymore, it was the real world again. The one where I’d thrown myself at my colleague twice now and made everything worse for everyone. How were we going to navigate work now, what would happen with the wedding. I didn't want to move for so many reasons but I wasn’t the one who moved.

Spencer’s fingers returned to my hips, which felt like they must be starting to bruise already. He grabbed them and lifted me off of him slowly, using my discarded underwear to clean up the mess seeping out from between my legs. It felt awkward and apologetic as he left them on the console, unsure where else to leave them, before tucking himself back into his trousers.

I took that as my cue to climb back into the drivers seat, pulling down the mirror so I could flatten down my hair and wipe the smudged mascara from underneath my eyes. Not like it helped much. My face was still flushed and covered with a light sheen of sweat. I folded it back into place and turned to Spencer. He didn’t return my gaze, looking down into his hands instead.

“I’ll uh, pop the trunk?” I said it like it was a question but did it anyway. He just nodded at he opened his door. Hopping out to grab his suitcase from the back. Once he shut the trunk he walked back past my window, giving an ever so slight wave.

Not a word, not a goodbye, or a goodnight, nothing. I wanted to get sick. I could still smell his scent in the car, on me. I could almost still feel his grip on my hips, my neck, in my hair. But I couldn’t feel him here with me, it felt like he was gone for good and it made me feel like death. I still had to move though, I had to get home before I let myself get upset, or angry, or both maybe. But I wouldn’t let myself cry just yet.

I waited till I fell in the door of my apartment and let my bags slump to the floor. All I wanted to do was call Spencer, or text him at the very least. I had messed something up and there was what felt like a horrible disconnect between us now.

——

The next case didn’t give me much time to recover. The call comes at 6:30 on Monday morning so I’ve gotten roughly 3 hours of sleep before I’m in the air once again. This time we’re on the way to Atlanta, and Spencer’s not sitting beside me. He’s set himself up alone on the sofa at the end of the jet, his files carefully spread around him to stop anyone, me, from sitting next to him. I don’t want to believe that things are tense but they just are, we’ve regressed even further past the point where he’d tease me. I’d prefer to be teased mercilessly than to be avoided like this.

At the station he insists on having a room of his own to conduct the geographical profiling if possible, he tells Hotch that it’s more complex than usual and he needs the headspace. And if Hotch notices something’s off he doesn’t mention it. In fact, no one seems to notice.

The first person to clock anything was Garcia, as per usual. She knew the case was stressful so she didn’t pry, she just mentioned that Spencer had been coming to her for information more than usual with this case, the concern plainly evident in her voice but I willed myself to ignore it.

Despite him still being so close he felt so distant, I selfishly missed his presence, buzzing around me as he worked. When you were in a room with him you could almost hear the whirring of his brain as he thought, and the elated relief that you could feel emanating from him when he solved a problem was infectious.

What’s worse is this wasn’t even one of those cases. It was Thursday already and we’d been at this 4 days. I could see through the plastic blinds into the next room where he worked, pages tacked up on a whiteboard as he scribbled around them in marker, things only he could really understand. His sleeves were rolled up his forearms, his tie had been shed long ago and was sitting in a little pile on the desk. He looked so frustrated, borderline upset, and all I really wanted to do was go in and make sure he was alright.

If it had been last week I would’ve gone in there, maybe brought a cup of coffee, or mint tea if he looked too jittery already. I’d make him eat something, he forgot to do that so often. I’d encourage him to ramble at me, letting his mind and his mouth run as fast as they needed to work through a problem. But it’s not last week, it’s this week.

A few minutes later Spencer leaves his little shelter to take a phone call. I know I shouldn’t but I can’t fight the instinct to help. I get up from my seat and pour him a cup of coffee, adding the borderline criminal amount of sugar he takes. I grab a donut from the basket beside the coffee station and bring both of them into his office, placing them down next to his balled up tie on the desk. I retreat back to my laptop and try to pull my focus back to my own work.

Out of the corner of my eye I can catch him doing a quick double take when he reenters the room. But he takes a drink from the coffee regardless and I feel a little better.

——

That night we get back to the hotel pretty late, all of us equally haggard from the weeks work. We had to finish up a bit of work at the precinct the following morning before heading home but for now it was time to rest.

Sitting on my bed alone with no distractions I just had far too much room in my mind to dwell on the weekend gone by. And why everything felt so strained now.

I knew Spencer’s room was down the hall. We were all on the same floor this time and I’d seen the plastic number dangling from the key in Spencer’s hand earlier. I knew my plan was deeply misguided, or not really a plan at all but I was walking out the door before I could stop myself.

I rapped my knuckles against the door to room 307 as softly as I could manage. If he didn’t answer he could just be asleep. Or he could’ve looked out the peephole and seen me. I stood a little too close to the door, listening for movement and I thought I could hear a faint rustling, so he was up.

It took another knock at the door, even softer this time, maybe I didn’t really want him to answer. A few seconds later, the door pulled open, not fully, just enough to see a sliver of him as he leaned into the gap, his hands still holding the door, ready to close it at a moments notice.

“Spencer” I whisper, I didn’t really think I’d get this far.

“What?” he replies, it’s hushed and stern, and it makes me feel cold.

“I don’t know, I wanted to check on you?” I’m unsure myself as I ask the question.

“I’m fine” it’s abrupt again, but at least it’s two whole syllables.

“Okay, I was just making sure” I nod and raise my hands a little, open palms facing him as though I’m trying to concede. “I’ll leave you to it”

I move to turn away shoulders falling, and maybe I look pathetic because he seems like he’s taking pity on me.

“Wait” he calls out, still quiet in an effort not to disturb any of our neighbors. He pulls the door to his room open just a hint more and I can see he’s in light blue button up pajamas. The look like something a child would wear in a storybook but I force myself not to stare. I just look at him hopefully.

“I’ll still go to the wedding with you Y/N” it comes out as more of a sigh than a sentence, like it pains him to really say it, “If that’s what you were trying to ask?”

My stomach drops at the sentiment. I’d forgotten about the fucking wedding, I’d forgotten why we ended up in this stupid situation to begin with. I felt frozen in the fluorescent hallway, I couldn’t tell him that I didn’t care about that, that I hadn’t cared about it for a while now. All I really cared about was him, and our friendship or whatever it was, and how I’d gone and ruined it by throwing myself at him.

“Oh, yeah” I let the words tumble out, “great” I give an awkward thumbs up because I’m not really sure what else to do with my hands and move to turn away again.

“And Y/N” he calls again gently, “thanks for earlier, at the precinct” I wave my hand to dismiss him. Of course he knew it was me.

“It was nothing” I brush it off, “night.” I turn away finally as I say it, heading back down the hall to my room. I can hear a faint “goodnight” billowing down the hall after me followed by the soft sound of a door closing. I crawl into bed and I can’t tell if I feel better or worse but I’m exhausted enough that it doesn’t even matter.

——

The jet back is as uncomfortable as it was on the way out. Everyone else is in pretty decent form, Hotch has allowed the team a half day, letting us start our weekends on a high note after the rocky week. I don’t have the heart to tell him I don’t want it.

I can’t stand the thought of spending this Friday night alone in my own apartment, or anywhere at all that’s not Spencer’s living room, with Spencer.

Pulling up to my place I can’t bring myself to get out of the car. Just staring up at the building with that same sinking feeling in my gut that’s been lingering all week. My car’s idling on the sidewalk for so long, the radio playing softly in the background as I ignore it in favor of resting my forehead against the steering wheel, unable to move.

It’s only been a week and I already can’t take it, how was I going to keep going along like this, pretending like I could bottle up my emotions forever. I couldn’t, it was that simple.

Fuck it.

I start up the car again, forcing my back up straight in my seat. I let my attention focus completely on the road in front of me, there was no sense in letting my mind wander. If it wandered far enough I might second guess myself.

Minutes later I’m at the familiar door but it takes me several more minutes to actually work up the courage to knock instead of just standing there staring. He’s faster to answer than last night, but then again he probably wasn’t expecting me this time.

He looks different than he’d looked earlier in the week, his dark circles had been steadily getting worse, heavier and sadder. His eyes were rimmed with a haze of red and were just a little puffy, if I didn’t know better I’d almost guess he’d been crying. He just stands in the doorway in stunned silence and I realize he must be waiting for me to speak.

“Spence” I plead, but I haven’t planned any of this out. I’m just here to make a fool of myself again I guess. “I’m sorry.” it just slips out.

“I’m sorry I’ve made things so weird between us now, I fucked it up. This is the first Friday in so long that I didn’t get to drive you home, and sit on that sofa” I point past him towards his living room, “Or work at your massive old desk” I move my head to catch a glimpse of it, tucked inside his front door. But something else catches my eye. A little lavender notebook perched on the desk with it’s pages fanned open and a cup of tea beside it.

It’s his notes. His notes on me.

He must follow my eyes, and my train of thought. “Were you? What-” I’m not really sure what I’m trying to ask but he cuts me off with a sigh.

“I was trying to see if there was anything I missed. Something that might-” he searches for the words, “help?” he doesn’t make eye contact with me. His gaze remains fixed on the floor.

“Help?” I plead, completely unsure of my footing, he shakes his head and leaves the doorway, wandering further into his apartment but leaves the door open. I take it as an invitation by default and follow him in. It doesn’t feel like it usually does. The air is colder, laced with tension.

“Spencer please?” I whimper, just trying to get him to reciprocate my eye contact for a second. As he turns around to face me he does just that, and it’s piercing. It stops me in my tracks instantly rooting me in place.

“Fuck Y/N! I’m so sick of this!” He bellows and his tone almost scares me, “I can’t keep pretending to be in love with you because I just am” he looks away again, covering his face with his open palms, leaning his face down into them. “I am in love with you” he says softly, and it’s muffled by his hands but I can still make it out. He pulls his hands away again, trying to regain his composure, his tone steadier when he speaks again.

“And you just need me to keep your parents off your back, and fuck you when you want it. And for a minute I thought you might feel the same way, but I know better now. I just don’t think I can do this anymore.” he lets out a defeated sigh. His posture is deflated, his shoulders sink and he looks exhausted in front of me. I know I’ve been staring at him dumbstruck for so long and I’ve got to speak soon.

“You love me?” is all I can think to say, and his face pulls together in confusion.

“Is that not obvious Y/N?” his tone is exasperated now

“I love you Spencer, I had no idea” the words rush out of my mouth and it looks like it takes him a few seconds to really comprehend it but his eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he does.

“You do?” he affirms

Instead of responding I just grab him by the lapels of his jacked and pull him towards me, almost fumbling and pulling him straight down on top of me. I capture his lips in a kiss, it’s uncoordinated and I think I can taste the salt of one or both of our tears breaking the lock of our lips. When I pull back he’s looking straight into my eyes again, but his gaze is soft and loving and I missed it more than I ever thought possible.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N and Spencer navigate their new, very real, relationship

“I’m sorry Spencer, I’m so sorry” I pull him in for another short kiss, “I love you so much”

“God I love you” he breathes against my ear as he pulls me in tighter, enveloping me in a hug and burying his face in the crook of my neck.

He pulls me in close as I rest the side of my face flush against his chest. His heart is beating so frantically. Probably from the left over anxiety, coupled with the adrenaline.

“I’m so stupid” I mumble into the fabric of his shirt. I can feel him chuckle against me more than I can hear him. He pulls back ever so slightly so that he can look down to me.

“What?” he breathes, a smile pulled across his exhausted features.

“Just this” I pull back too, waving one arm around me while I keep a firm grip on his back with the other. “I just can’t believe I let things get this messy” I’m smiling but a left over tear rolls down my cheek. Spencer moves to wipe it away before I can. His hand gently cupping my face as his thumb glides against my cheek.

“Hey, hey” he hushes, “we’re both stupid” it comes out as a slight chuckle, “we both made it this messy, but it doesn’t have to be messy anymore”

I just nod, my jaw still softly within his grasp. “We’re both stupid” I affirm.

“But I love you” he smiles, it’s sweet and it’s soft, just like the kiss he places on my lips immediately after, “and you love me.” His smile breaks so wide as he says the last part that I can’t help but mimic it, my cheeks almost aching at the sensation.

“We’re stupid but we both love each other” I reassure, tears still spilling down my cheeks gently.

With that final reassurance he slips one of his hands around my waist to pull me in close again. His other hand gripping the back of my neck, bringing my face to his once more and locking our lips together with a tentative softness. Softness that only lasts for a moment before the kiss deepens, our mouths opening, tongues moulding against one another. Our hands begin to roam, his gripping my waist and hips with ferocity, mine lacing in his hair, and digging into the back of his neck.

Spencer’s hands begin to trail down, palming my ass over my skirt, squeezing just a little, and I moan into his mouth. That must set him off because his fingers dig into me, far less hesitant this time. “Spence” I breathe, breaking off our kiss for a moment.

“Bedroom?” he asks, it’s almost a whisper, and I nod enthusiastically.

“Please”

He hurries me, quick and clumsy, hands never leaving my body wrapping around my waist from behind, lips connecting with my neck as he leads me in the right direction.

As my legs hit the edge of the bed I turn around, he places his hands on my shoulders and pushes me down carefully onto the mattress, his hands hesitantly leaving my body and as they start to work on the buttons of his shirt. I can’t help but giggle at the way he fumbles over them in his rush to get the shirt off. I sit up on my knees and let my hands fall over his own.

“Let me help you there” I offer and his hands give way, letting me undo the buttons one by one to pull his shirt open. On instinct my fingers sneak inside, splaying against his bare chest before gliding up to his shoulders to shrug the cotton off of him. He lets it fall to the floor and turns his attention back to me.

I unbutton my blouse for him, and let him take it off for me. Revealing my bra in the process I can almost hear the change in his breathing. Trying a little too hard to keep his erratic breaths under control at the sight. I pull him in closer, digging my fingers into his shoulders so that he almost topples down on top of me. Catching himself, bracing his arms either side of my head.

His eyes were just so sweet, and kind, in spite of the lingering redness that rimmed them. The mixture of emotions just made my heart feel so full. I put my hands into his hair, not pulling, just gently lacing in them so that I can bring him down to me and plant a soft kiss against his lips.

He must’ve known exactly how I was feeling in that moment, when he breaks off the kiss he just whispers a little ‘I love you’ right by my ear and it makes me smile involuntarily.

As he starts to move further down my body he continues to speak. Placing tender kisses along my throat, whispering “I love your neck”, followed by my chest, “I love your breasts”, “I love your stomach”, “I love your bellybutton,”, “I love your hips”, “I love your thighs”, matching kisses and sentiments littered my body as he made his way down.

I sat up on my elbows so I could watch him, follow his little trail down to where we both inevitably knew he would end up. “I love your panties too by the way” he says, mischievous now, “but they’ve gotta go.” He hooks his thumbs into the elastic on either side and pulls them down my legs. He tosses them off the bed with little to no grace before nestling back in between my legs. Kissing little paths up the insides of my thighs, all delicate and loving, the polar opposite of the last time we’d been together. The bruises on my hips were only just starting to heal and if he noticed them he clearly didn’t want to point it out.

As his breath ghosts over my centre I can feel the warm air from his mouth, and that alone turns me on. Spencer being so close. Then I can feel his lips, just kissing so soft before he lets his tongue drift through my folds, lapping up the wetness that was no doubt gathered there already.

“Oh fuck, Spencer” my hands fly down to his hair immediately, getting lost amongst his curls as he sucks my clit, he pulls back as much as my grip would allow to look up at me. And he looks perfect, his eyes adoring, his mouth glistening.

“I love the way you taste” he breathes out before ducking back down to continue, this time bringing two of his fingers to my entrance, pushing them in slowly, almost just teasing before easing in completely. As he curls them up inside me angling his hand just right my hips buck up off the bed uncontrollably. He takes his other arm and drapes it across my hips, with just the right amount of pressure to be soothing he pushes them down again, pinning them in place as he eats me out, working his long nimble fingers inside me.

I can feel it building already, deep inside me. My legs start to move of their own accord tucking around Spencers back, digging my heels in to pull him closer, or to keep him as close as he already is. I can feel him giggle at my eagerness, but the vibrations feel far too good to be embarrassed.

“Spencer, I’m gonna cum” I moan out, fingers firmly tugging at his hair now, and he continues at the same pace, even picking it up ever so slightly as I start to shake around him. As I begin to come down he takes his mouth off me, keeping his fingers moving inside for just a little longer, working me through it.

“That’s it baby, cum for me” he whispers, moving up the bed to lay next to me, keeping his fingers inside me for another second before removing them slowly, trailing them up my torso until they come to a stop against my face. He uses that hand to move my jaw and tilt my head to the side to face him.

I grab his wrist with a weak softness, probably because I have to work up my energy again. I bring his fingers to my lips and lick up the length of them, tasting myself. He lets out a harsh breath maybe at the sensation, maybe at the image. I don’t care, I just care that he pulls me towards him by the back of my neck so that he can kiss me, a little urgent and a little sloppy. His tongue working against my own so that I can taste myself on him there too.

Spencer moves to lay me back down and I can’t help but resist.

“Wait” I breathe out, “Can I—” I’m not sure how I want to say it, “Sit up against the headboard” I just instruct instead. He eagerly follows, shuffling up the bed and resting his back against the headboard.

I move, throwing my leg over his to straddle his lap.

“You wanted to be on top?” He chuckles, hands coming to rest on my hips.

“Mmhmm, I wanted to look at you” I confess and he softens, his smile beaming up at me.

“God I love you” he brings his hands up to my face and focuses his eyes on mine before kissing me gently on the lips.

“I love you too, you softie, but I wanted to look at the little faces you make while you’re inside me”

He lets out a genuine laugh at that, “such a romantic”

His hands fall back down to my hips, grabbing them a little rougher this time. I can feel his dick, hard in between us, he uses his grip on me to lift me just a little, positioning me where he wants me and I take the hint. Slowly sinking down on him, taking all of him in, inch by inch.

His head falls back against the headboard at the feeling, and I’m so glad I get to watch his expressions, his softly parted lips, breathing unsteady and strained, he’s so beautiful.

“God you’re gorgeous” I can’t help but blurt out as I place my hands on each of his shoulders, anchoring myself so I can start to move.

“Me?” He chuckles, “I can’t believe you” he dismisses, his head still reclined, eyes screwed shut.

“Spence” I probably say it a bit too stern, taking one of my hands and pulling his head back up by his chin so that he’s looking at me. I look straight into his eyes as I speak, “You’re beautiful Spencer, and I’ve thought that since the second I saw you.”

His face softens completely and he leans forward to capture my lips in a kiss, his hands moving up to hold me by my waist. When he pulls back his eyes are so full of sweetness.

“I thought the exact same thing” he assures and his lips connect with my neck this time pulling me in close. I let out a small moan at the pressure and finally begin to start moving. I working up into a rhythm as Spencer helps me move, guiding me with his hands.

“You feel so good, you always feel so good” Spencer moans, relaxing back against the headboard again, thrusting his hips up into me every so often, eliciting a small yelp each time.

“God you feel perfect, you fill me up so good” I whine, just trying not to combust right away.

I brace my arms on the headboard, either side of Spencer’s head as I start to pick up the pace, both of us growing too impatient to wait for our releases any more. I start to move my hips up and down, taking all of him in as deep as I can on each thrust. Once Spencer’s eyes start to flutter closed and he begins to bite his lip I can tell he’s close.

“I’m gonna—” he moans out, and it’s the filthiest sound, he lets out a moan that sounds an awful lot like my name as he cums, his hands digging into my sides to ground himself. And I’m following behind just a second later, collapsing against his chest.

We stay like that for a few moments too long, neither of us really possessing the energy to do anything just yet. It’s Spencer that makes the first move removing his hands from where they’d settled against my bare back, tucking me in close to his chest, both of us covered in a thin layer of sweat.

He lifts me up a little off of his lap, just enough so that he can pull himself out. And it breaks the seal, his cum beginning to spill out of me in a slow stream, he lets out a little moan at the sight. Something about it turning him on.

I’m about ready to collapse when Spencer’s fingers move down between us, grazing over the mix of our arousal that’s gathered between my legs. When his finger tip grazes my swollen clit I whine, “Spence” is all I can breathe out.

He gathers some of his cum on his fingers and begins to push them up inside me, painfully slow. And I’m still so sensitive but it feels so fucking good.

“What are you doing Spencer?” I manage to string together in my delirious state. And when his eyes meet mine they’re still full of lust.

“You think you can give me one more Love?” He asks as his lips connect with my neck again. And how could I deny any request of his when he’d just called me ‘Love’.

“Anything for you” I say, and it’s true.

With my permission he starts to move two of his fingers in and out of me, pushing more of his cum in each time, forcing it deeper with each thrust. It doesn’t take long for the feeling to build once again, and I’m writhing in his lap, unable to contain myself anymore.

“Who do you love?” He asks in a hushed whisper right by my ear,

“Fuck! You Spencer. Love you” I cry out from the overstimulation.

“Then cum for me Love.” And I’m moaning at his hands for the third time in one night, collapsing into him once again. If I had any energy remaining it just left my body.

Spencer lets me rest then. Helping me off of him and laying me on one side of his bed before leaving. I knew I was almost entirely asleep when I felt a warm towel between my legs, cleaning me up.

The very last thing I remember is a set of warm arms pulling me in tight as I drift off completely.

——

When I finally wake up it’s to the unusual smell of food actually cooking in Spencer’s apartment. I reach out for him in the bed but all I find is an empty space next to me. I frown a little and hear a chuckle from the doorway.

Spencer’s standing there laughing at my disappointed little expression, but his hair is so perfectly messy at the top of his head that I break out in a smile right away.

“Get over here” I yawn out, sitting upright in the bed and stretching my arms out for him dramatically.

He holds up a finger and says “One second” before leaving the doorway for a moment only to reemerge with a tray in his hands. When he comes to sit beside me he places it down between us and it’s breakfast. He’s after making me breakfast in bed.

“Pancakes?” I ask wearily, remembering the last time he attempted them.

“I’ve been practicing!” he says defensively, “And I had a good teacher?”

“I never taught you to make pancakes?” I chance, but he dismisses it, shushing me softly.

“Shut up and try them” he hands me a fork and so I dig in. And he mustn’t have been kidding because they were good. They were almost better than just good.

“Spence?” I ask, swallowing down the first mouthful, the disbelief on my face must’ve been obvious.

“Told ya” he takes his own fork to the plate.

Once we’ve finished eating everything on the tray I make a move to get out of bed but Spencer just yanks me back down to his side. Wrapping his arms so tight around me that I can barely squirm away.

“Spencer, I need a shower” I whine as I struggle, and it’s true I hadn’t washed since we got back from the case and I felt gross.

“Nope, I don’t think you do. I want to be able to smell sex on you all day” he whispers right against my ear, and that gets my attention.

“Spence, we can recreate that in the shower if you’d like?” I say it in a teasing tone and his arms start to ease up around me, letting me move again.

“I seem to remember you telling me you’d had sex in the shower before so I’m gonna assume you’re an expert?” I tease him again and this time he leaps out of bed, pulling me out with him.

It takes him no time at all to get me undressed and under the steaming hot water of his shower, and he joins me a second later. I wash my hair quickly under the stream to get it over with, I want to thank him for this morning and I’ve got a plan.

Once I’m all clean I position him under the water so I can wet his hair then pull him away just a little. I take some shampoo in my fingers and reach up to run it through his hair, lathering it around his curls. I take my time with it, digging my fingers into his scalp and massaging more than anything else and he’s groaning at the feeling. I move him back under the hot water to rinse it out before repeating the actions with the conditioner.

Once his hair is taken care of I later up some soap in my hands before spreading them out against his skin, working it into his neck, his shoulders, down his back. I push him into the stream and pull him back again, laying my palms flat against his chest.

When I look up at him he’s just smiling blissfully. He hasn’t said a word, he’s just accepted the gesture. I place a soft kiss against his chest and start to trail down his torso. Littering kisses all the way down until I'm on my knees in front of him.

He sees where I’m going with this and it only takes a few seconds of running my hand along his length before he’s hard and throbbing in my grip.

I tease him a little at first, placing a small kiss right on the tip before licking up the underside of his length then taking the head between my lips. He lets out a stifled groan in anticipation, reaching out a hand to brace himself against the cool tile. The other comes down to rest at the back of my head as I start to take him in.

It takes some effort but I manage to force my way down his entire length, right up until it hits the back of my throat and his knees almost buckle.

The noises he's making are filthy and they echo off the walls in here. He tries to grip my wet hair as I move along his cock, alternating between long, slow, deep thrusts, and shallow rapid movements. It seems to be driving him crazy.

I can feel him tensing and squirming and if the sounds that are coming from him are anything to go by, he’s close, so close. In anticipation I wrap my hands around him, gripping his ass to pull him closer to me, encouraging him to thrust into me if that’s something he wants. Silently telling him not to hold back.

And he doesn’t, with one final thrust he’s releasing into my mouth, moaning my name, and I’m trying my best to swallow around him. Still moving and sucking lightly to work him through it until he pulls away from me, too sensitive to take any more.

Once I stand up next to him again he pulls me in for a kiss, tongue diving deep into my mouth, tasting himself on me.

“Fuck, what was all that for?” he breathes, chest heaving.

“It was because I love you, that and breakfast.” I joke an the lets out a small laugh. Kissing me once again.

“I’ve gotta cook more often”

— —

We’ve been lounging in his apartment all day, lazily enjoying each others company. Showing each other physical affection for no one but ourselves like we’ve both been craving for so long. And it’s so much more perfect than I could’ve imagined.

We’re about to start a movie, and I’m nestled in right under his arm, a thick blanket sprawling over me when we get the call.

Both of our cellphones ping at the same time on the coffee table and it’s obvious right away. A huge part of me wants to ignore it, and I know Spencer does too from the way he throws his head back in frustration. It takes a minute before either of us actually reach out to grab our phones.

There’s a string of information about the case but the thing that stands out is the last line:

‘ _Meet on the jet. Wheels up in 40’._

We both sit bolt upright.

“Shit” I stammer, jumping up off the sofa, “I gotta get my go-bag”, scrambling to find my coat and purse wherever I’d left them the night before. “I’ll be back.” I reassure once I find my keys in my coat pocket but he shakes his head at me.

“You should just go straight. We probably shouldn’t show up together?” he says it like he’s not even sure himself.

“Shit, you’re probably right” I sigh, putting on my coat and racing to the door, “I’ll see you there” I go to open the door before I turn back around and march right over to him. I place a hand on the back of his neck and pull him down to me, catching his lips in a rough open mouthed kiss, letting it deepen for just a second before letting him go.

He’s looking at me dumbfounded as I rush out the door.

——

Once we’ve landed Spencer and I are sent straight to the M.E. together, luckily the car ride gives us just enough time to finally talk to each other.

“What do we do?” he asks pretty much the second he shuts his car door, and I can’t help but laugh at him. His expression’s all confused and flustered like he doesn’t want to put a foot wrong.

“What?” he asks again, clearly not understanding what I’m finding so funny.

“You’re just cute when you’re all freaked out like this” I let him in on the joke and he sighs. “But in all seriousness, this doesn’t have to be difficult.” I try to assure him.

“The team knows we’re friends now, so we don’t have to hide that. But we can’t do anything couple-y is all” he nods at me, fidgeting with his satchel on his lap.

“Define couple-y” I just laugh at him again.

“Okay, like no physical contact maybe? No kissing, no inappropriate words or texts, no sex?”

The way he gulps down the lump in his throat is almost deafening. “That all sounds fair” he nods, “Or unfair, depending on how you look at it. What about inappropriate thoughts?” he asks, and he only sounds like he’s half joking.

“Those can’t be helped I guess, but keep ‘em to yourself Doc” I pretend to scold him.

“So I shouldn’t tell you what I’m thinking about right now then?” he quirks up an eyebrow and he’s fucking teasing me.

“What?” I ask

“Just clarifying, I shouldn’t tell you about what your pencil skirt is making me think right now?” he asks again, like it’s a completely innocent question.

“You’re in trouble” I threaten and he smirks at me.

“And I shouldn’t tell you what that sentence did to me either?”

This was going to be the longest week of my life.

——

We try our best not to let anything interfere with the case. When you’re looking at crime scene photos it’s almost impossible to think about anything else anyway. But that didn’t make the downtime any less difficult.

I was trying to play fair but Spencer had no such intentions. Every time he’d speak he’d draw attention to his hands on purpose, twirling a pen in-between his fingers or tapping them on the desk while he sat beside me. Hovering over my shoulder as I combed through files, needlessly reaching down to point sentences out to me.

If we got a second of genuine alone time he’d take it as far as he could. Whispering downright filthy ideas in my ears about how he’d like to fuck me into the desk in nothing but my pencil skirt. After a point it felt like he was probably teasing himself as much as he was teasing me.

Thankfully the case was simple enough and was resolved pretty quickly. I don’t know how much more of that I could’ve taken. I decided to get a little revenge while we were in the car on the way back the hotel for the night. Our flight was leaving early the next morning so we were all excited to get some rest. But I had other plans.

I sent Spencer a photo, and I could hear his phone ping in the backseat where he sat next to Morgan. I knew it was a risky move but I hoped he’d understand it was secretive the second he saw my name flash up on the screen.

The photo was the one I’d taken of myself in Vegas that night. As I tried on the lingerie Garcia had given me. I sent the photo of myself to him with the caption ‘ _remember these?_ ’. I didn’t hear anything suspicious behind me but he just texted back the word ‘ _Fuck_ ’. And I knew I’d won.

I’m waiting in my room for about 20 minutes before there’s a knock at the door, it’s soft and I probably wouldn’t have heard it if I wasn’t expecting it. The whole team’s in rooms on this floor so this is already risky.

I open the door and pull him in by his tie as fast as I can, shutting the door behind me. He pulls me into a hug right away, his hands holding onto my waist as he tucks his head right into my neck, inhaling the scent of me. It’s sort of surprising, I thought he was showing up at my door to do something far less innocent.

When he pulls back I look up at him, softness in his eyes. “What was that for?” I ask, and he smiles down at me.

“It was because I love you” he repeats my own words back to me, “and because I missed that the most this week.” he says it like it doesn’t make my heart swell in my chest as thought it’s trying to burst out of it completely.

I pull him down to me and press my lips to his, opening them just a little so that he can slip his tongue inside. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to heat up, he moves against me so that I'm backed up against the desk in the room, and it’s digging into the backs of my thighs. This is more where I thought things were going when he called to my door.

I break apart the kiss before it gets too out of hand. “Spence” I gasp, trying desperately to level out my breathing and stop my heart from pounding. “We can’t, the team’s on either side” I explain but it does little to discourage him.

“We’re just going to have to be quiet then” he whispers as he leans back in, attaching his lips to mine once again. And I give in so, so easy.

His hands roam down and connect with the backs of my thighs, grabbing them firmly to lift me up onto the desk so that I’m sitting with him nestled right in between my legs. His hands are moving frantically now, grabbing and pulling at any item of clothing he can, untucking my blouse from my skirt and unbuttoning it so that he can snake his fingers inside to paw at my breasts over my bra. He removes his lips from mine for a second to whisper “ _Off._ ” It comes out like a command and it turns me on so much more than it should.

I shrug out of my blouse and bra as he pulls away to remove his own clothes, discarding them on the floor before turning to me. I hop off the desk for a minute so that I can unzip my skirt. I don't get far before he moves right up behind me and touches my hands, pulling them away from the zipper.

“I wasn’t kidding before, I wanna fuck you in that little skirt” he says it in a low moan right into my ear and it makes me squeeze my legs together involuntarily.

His hands move along my body, palming my breasts as he pushes himself right up against my back, and I can feel his hard length pressing right into my ass, I have to stifle the moan that tries to escape my throat as his lips connect with my neck.

His hands smooth their way down my body, my waist, my hips, teasing all along the exposed skin. He continues trailing them down the the hemline of my skirt and he yanks it up, pulling it up until it’s all bunched up between my hips and my waist. I’m breathing so heavily in an effort not to make any real noise.

His hands don’t stop moving there. Instead they come up to rest on the outside of my panties, drawing teasing lines along the hem of them along my thighs. “Are you nice and wet for me Love?” he moans quietly into my ear, and I nod. “That’s not an answer” he whispers and I want to scream.

“Fuck, yes Spencer. I’ve been wet for you all week” I whimper it out as quietly as I can and he’s satisfied with my answer. His fingers tuck themselves into my panties right away. Trailing so gently along my slit, feeling the wetness that had been pooling between my legs for so long.

“Good girl” he whispers right as he brushes a finger against my clit and I do let a moan escape this time. And it’s louder than it should've been.

He pulls his hands out of my panties immediately. “I guess I spoke too soon” he teases. Bringing his fingers up to my mouth and pushing them between my lips so I can taste them. “Am I going to have to keep my fingers in here the whole time or are you going to be quiet?” he asks, and I want to say ‘both, please fucking both’ but he takes his fingers out a second later.

“I can be quiet, I promise” I whine softly and I sound positively pathetic. But he seems to like it.

He places his hands on my hips and pushes them into the side of the desk. I bite my lip so I don’t cry out at the contact. One of his hands rests itself between my shoulder blades and it pushes me down so my chest is flat on the desk. He takes his hand off my back so that they can both come to rest on my hips, where my panties are still very much on.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband and peels them back exposing my ass and my dripping wet centre to him as he pulls them down and off my legs.

And it occurs to me that he’s about to make good on his words from earlier. He’s about to fuck me into the desk wearing nothing but a pencil skirt.

I can’t see what’s happening but I can hear him moving, and I can hear the soft sounds of his underwear hitting the floor. So when I feel his hands grip my hips again I know he’s hard, and pressed right up behind me.

“Please, Spencer, I need you so badly” I whimper, and it’s barely audible even in the silence of the room, but he leans down and pulls my hair to one side, placing a gentle kiss to the side of my neck before he’s pushing into me.

All I can hear are our harsh breaths and the delicious wet sounds of him burying himself so deep inside me that I have to bite into my lip to keep quiet.

“Fuck” he whispers, “I missed this, you feel so good, so tight and wet for me Love” he’s taking care to be as quiet as he can but he’s already losing himself.

And I’m trying not to let go either, but it’s so fucking hard when he starts to pick up the pace. His hips working faster and faster, each thrust forcing me further up the desk, and forcing the desk into the wall. The sounds of skin slamming against skin are only amplified by the silence of the room as he works himself in and out of me so deep I want to _scream_ his name.

“Fuck Spencer” I moan, and it’s involuntary, and almost full volume, but he doesn't reprimand me this time. Instead he does almost the opposite. Snaking his hand under me, right between my legs, he starts to work his fingers against my clit, matching time with his thrusts as best as he can.

The desk continues to slam against the wall, and I’m increasingly aware of the unmistakable noise it must be making on the other side of this wall. But I really can’t bring myself to care anymore.

Spencer’s strokes continue but start to grow sloppier. Which is for the best because I probably couldn’t take much more of this. I can feel the pressure building by the second and I know I’m about to combust.

“Spencer, fuck. I’m gonna cum” I moan out so loud this time and I can’t even stop myself. He really doesn’t seem to care at all because he just responds in kind.

“Cum with me Y/N” he groans as he thrusts into me with force, spilling himself inside me as I shake around him. My orgasm sending shockwaves so intense around my body that I have to grip the edges of the desk for support.

Spencer gives another few lazy thrusts working me through it as I come down before he pulls out of me. Heading to the bathroom and returning with a washcloth to clean up the mess we made between my legs.

Once I can stand up again he ushers me over to the bed, helping my out of my skirt and into some pajamas. He sits beside be for a moment and pulls me into him in a sideways hug.

We both know he can’t stay. It would look too suspicious if anyone needed to check on either of us during the night, or in the morning. That didn’t mean it didn’t suck.

I walk him back to the door after we’ve sat for another few minutes. And I pull him into another hug. It takes some genuine effort to pry him off of me though. Once I do I take his face in my hands and place a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I love you, goodnight” I whisper.

“I love you too” he repeats and he’s out the door.

— —

The next morning we all have to leave painfully early to be on time for wheels-up. Once I reach the lobby Spencer’s standing next to Morgan, I wander over to them and Spencer hands me one of the coffee cups in his hand and I take it without questioning the gesture. Morgan raises an eyebrow, his confusion plain on his face but he seems to shake it away just as fast.

We settle in on the jet, Spencer and I don’t think it’s too suspicious to sit next to each other seeing as we’ve done it before. But it seems like we were wrong. Once we’ve taken off Morgan walks down to sit in the seat opposite us for a moment. His eyes dart between us, then down to the coffee in my hand. Like he’s waiting for us to start the conversation.

“You’re not slick you know” he says it in a hushed tone, clearly not wanting to invite the whole team into the conversation.

“What a guy can’t buy his friend a cup of coffee?” Spencer defends, taking a sip of his own casually, like he’d already won this fight.

“Oh no, a guy can most certainly buy his friend a cup of coffee” he laughs, “What friends can’t do, is fuck in the room right next to mine and expect me not to notice” I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks and Spencer almost spits out his mouthful of coffee.

“Derek, it’s not— we’re not—” I start to defend myself but I can’t, “Yeah that was us” I resign right away. There wasn’t really any way to work ourselves out of this one.

Derek regards us in silence for a moment and it feels like we’re in a stalemate, until he speaks again.

“My man!” he reaches out and pats Spencer’s knee, “Pretty boy’s getting some.” he says and when I look to Spencer he doesn’t even look embarrassed. He’s almost beaming.

I bury my face in my hands, the reality that he heard me having sex the night before is still too raw to find it anything other than embarrassing.

Once Morgan leaves I turn back to Spencer, and he still looks delighted with himself, “Well you don’t have to look quite so happy” I laugh at him and he just continues to grin.

“I’m just glad someone finally knows.” he says, “And he knows I’m punching above my weight” he chuckles. But I smack him gently on the arm.

“I’m lucky to have you Spence, you’re the ‘ _pretty boy_ ’ they don’t call you that for nothing” now he finally looks embarrassed, his cheeks start to glow pink and if we weren’t on the jet I’d kiss them.

It only takes 1 minute and 30 seconds before I’m flooded with texts from Garcia.

_‘What happened to me being the first to know?!’_

_‘Morgan texts me, assuming I know and I look like a fool!’_

_‘I’ll kill you, and that doctor of yours! If I made you I can break you’_

_‘I didn’t mean that! I love you both, you can’t be broken, you’re unbreakable’_

_‘But how could you not tell me’_

_‘We’re going to talk about this when you get home young lady’_

I decide that it’s only healthy to respond to one of the messages.

_‘We certainly will talk about it. Pizza, wine, and facemasks when I land?’_

She responds immediately.

_‘It’s a date’_

_‘Sorry, an appointment as you insist on calling them’_

_‘But we both know they were dates’_


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding is finally here!

Things start to feel normal way faster than I thought they would.

We’ve got next to nothing left to cover by the time the wedding rolls around. We probably know a little too much about each other to be honest. But it feels like it’s almost not enough. I don't want to stop learning things about Spencer ever. I want to take in every piece of information he’s willing to give me.

I thought that the security and safety of us being in a genuine relationship would ease his worries this time around, but it almost did the opposite. He stood pacing around the hotel room, walking in small circles around the coffee table while I sat on the bed and watched him.

“What if they don’t like me?” he rushes out in a stressed voice.

“Don’t like you?” I say incredulous, as if we didn’t already have confirmation that they loved him

“I don’t know, things have changed since I last saw them, what if they can tell? What if they can see that we were faking before?” he starts to spiral so I stand up to stop him from pacing. Blocking his path around the room and bracing my hands on his shoulders.

“Spencer Reid” I say, serious, looking into his eyes, “They loved you before, and they’ll love you again. You’ve got absolutely nothing to worry about, okay?” I start to nod in order to coax one out of him, and he follows suit. Bobbing his head up and down, trying to release the tension in almost all of his muscles.

I stretch up and plant a small kiss on his lips as a reward and his expression softens, his lips which were stretched in a thin line suddenly relax and pull up into a little smile.

“There he is” I coo and his smile just grows even wider, “we gotta get you to bed, you need all the rest you can get” I release his shoulders and spin him around so that I can usher him to bed. We had a long day of traveling behind us, and we were about to have a long day in front of us too. Not that we weren’t used to both of those things it was just so much harder to get out of bed on the days that we slept next to each other. Something about his little sleepy face and his tousled hair made me want to give into his every demand, especially when he said he only wanted 5 more minutes in bed cuddled up next to me.

I almost had to force him into bed but he gave in eventually. Crawling in under the covers to wait for me while I got changed for bed. By the time I was tucking myself in next to him he was almost out cold already but he still didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around me, pulling me in so tight against his chest that I could feel his breath rustling the hairs on the top of my head.

I could fall asleep like this forever.

— —

When I wake up Spencer’s nowhere to be seen, but the spot beside me is still warm so I doubt he’s been gone too long. In the amount of time it takes me to wake up fully, and sit upright on the edge of the bed in preparation for starting my day, Spencer’s emerging from the bathroom.

His hair sitting in damp curls around his head, with just a fluffy towel wrapped around his hips I can do nothing but watch him as he walks towards me.

“It’s rude to stare you know” he jokes.

“It’s rude to come in here looking like that and expect me not to.” I joke back.

I follow him to the wardrobe where his tux is hanging, coming up behind him to wrap my hands around his bare middle. Placing soft kisses all along his shoulder. He can see me in the mirror on the wardrobe and his eyes meet mine for a second, softening before snapping back to reality.

“Ah-ah. Nope” he pries himself from my grip and turns around to look down at me, “We don’t have that kind of time, you gotta get a move on” he scolds, but it’s playful. And it just makes me want to rip his towel off even more.

“You’re the worst _real_ boyfriend ever” I say and he just laughs at my petulant attitude, placing a hand flat on my back and shoving me towards the bathroom. I take the not so subtle hint and get myself showered.

By the time I’m out, with my own towel secured around my chest Spencer is fully dressed in his tux, sitting on the bed patiently. When I catch his eye he’s smirking at me, and I know that look.

“C’mere” he waves me over to him and I scoff.

“ _We don’t have that kind of time_ ” I echo his words back to him and he lets out a small laugh. I turn my back to him then and go to retrieve my dress from where it’s hanging in the wardrobe. But he just takes yet another page from my own book, and I can feel his arms wrap around my waist from behind and his soft lips planting feverish kisses along my bare shoulder, and up along my neck until he meets my ear.

“Maybe we’ve got a little time” he whispers, his voice teasing.

And I want to leave him hanging, just like he’d done to me, but god, I’m not that strong. I reach one of my arms up behind me so that I can run my fingers through his hair. It’s drier now, soft and light after being so freshly washed.

I catch his eye in the mirror facing us for the briefest second and it’s so full of lust and mischief. He knew I’d cave this easy.

One of his hands leaves my waist, coming to stop at the top of my towel, right where it’s tucked together. It’s fragile enough already so it only takes a slight pull for the towel to fall, pooling at my feet so that I’m fully exposed.

As much as I wish it wasn’t, there’s something about him still remaining fully clothed, and in a tux no less, that has me wet already. The image in front of me in the mirror was way too much to walk away from now.

His kisses along my neck start to grow more hungry, his tongue and teeth trailing along the freshly washed skin, nipping and sucking every so often.

“I can’t believe I get to do this” he breathes right by my ear and I’m confused all of a sudden.

“Do what” I manage to get out, but it sounds a little more like a moan than I expected it to.

“This.” he states, his lips pressing into the spot below my ear, trailing back down my neck, slow and steady.

“This.” he says again as he starts to move his hands from their resting places on my hips, one of them coming up to grab my breast, squeezing it gently in his hand before grazing his fingers across the nipple. Soft and teasing, and it coaxes a moan from deep in my throat.

“This.” he repeats once again as his other hand moves down, resting itself between my legs for just a moment too long before he dives in. He runs one finger through my folds, finding me exactly as aroused as I already knew I was.

“And definitely this.” he says finally as he pushes one finger inside of me. It moves slow and steady, and he curves it up against my walls even so often in a way that makes my knees buckle just a little. Thank god his other arm is braced around my waist.

“Can you handle another Love?” he teases, and I try to speak but it’s just a whimper, so I nod.

“Good girl” he breathes out right by my ear as he forces a second finger inside of me, stretching me out, filling me up.

My eyes have been screwed shut for so long, focusing on the sensation alone, that when I open them up again the image in front of me catches me by surprise.

I already look like a mess, still wet from the shower, whimpering and shaking from Spencer’s touch. Watching his fingers in the reflection as he picks up the pace, fucking me with them so intensely I might genuinely collapse.

“Spence” I manage to whine, pulling at the hair of his that my hand is still clutched around, “I’m so close”

He nestles his face into the crook of my neck, as he speaks, “Then cum for me Love” with his encouragement I’m shaking around him only seconds later. He nurses me through it, pumping his fingers in and out of me so gently, keeping my upright.

He removes his fingers from me slowly and brings them up to his mouth, sucking them in and tasting me on them, pointedly making eye contact with me in the mirror the entire time.

“You better get a move on or we’re going to be late” he says as he pulls the fingers from his lips, and I’d shove him if he didn’t look so pretty right now.

— —

Our race to get ready means we were only leaving the hotel room about 5 minutes later than we should’ve it wasn’t ideal but we still made it to the venue in plenty of time.

I have to stand up next to Margot and all of the other bridesmaids so I can’t sit next to Spencer. But he sits in the first row and every time I look down to him he’s just staring right back at me, a huge dopey grin on his face.

When it’s over I grab Spencer to walk out of the venue together, arms linked at the elbow. Now that I can finally see him up close his eyes are the tiniest bit bloodshot.

“Were you crying?” I whisper to him and he just shakes his head.

“No! Shut up” he brings his free hand up to wipe his cheeks, giving himself away.

“You softie” I nudge his shoulder just a little, giggling at him.

“It was just— _nice_ , okay?” he defends, as though I could find it anything other than wholesome and endearing. So I don’t interrogate him any further on our ride to the Wedding reception.

It’s in a ballroom at our hotel, it’s high-ceilinged and sprawling, packed full of guests. The atmosphere is nothing but excitement as the food is brought out, and we make our way through the speeches.

As the night goes on and the tables are pulled apart to facilitate all of the dancing Margot slips into the seat next to me. Her hair and make-up are already looking a little disheveled from all of the talking and moving and dancing she’d been up to. But she still looked beautiful as ever. And her lips have just been in the same unwavering smile all day.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you this happy before” I tell her, and it’s true. I’d seen how happy Philip made her but this was almost on a whole other level.

“I know. This day is just— I don’t even have the words” she sighs a little, “perfect, maybe? That doesn’t do it justice” she shakes her head, “And how about you? How’s your day?”

“Good! It’s so beautiful Margot, I’m so happy for you! The ceremony even made Spencer cry!” I joke and she turns her head, looking around for him.

“And where’s he gone? Your handsome genius?” she pokes my arm gently like she’s teasing me, so I point behind her to where Spencer had been cornered.

“He left to get us drinks about 20 minutes ago but Aunt Jo’s got her claws in him” I chuckle

“No doubt telling him one of the same 3 stories!” Margot adds with a laugh before her face softens a little, “While I’ve got you alone, how are you two doing? Is it all going well, you seem happy”

“I am, _we_ are, I think? I mean— we said ‘I love you’ which felt very, I don’t know, _serious_? Like, I haven’t said that to anyone in years. And for the last — god knows how long, with Nathan, I didn’t mean it” I stop myself, I’m rambling, something I must’ve picked up from Spencer. The thought makes me smile. “But I just hope it works out. Just with having the same job, and spending so much time together—”

“Jesus!” Margot cuts me off, almost laughing, “This is so you”

I look at her, the confusion must be plain on my face because she rests her hand over mine on the table in a comforting gesture.

“All I mean is that you’re an over-thinker. Always have been! You worry about things that aren't worth worrying about, you freak yourself out.” I only have to think on it for a minute before I know she’s right. That had kind of been the source of any friction between Spencer and I since my first day. So I nod at her, a little sigh escaping as I do.

“All I’m asking,” she makes a point of holding eye contact as she speaks this time, “is that you try not to think about it this time. Just feel it. Okay?”

I nod again, “Okay” I affirm and she’s right back to her beaming smile, looking up over my head.

“Speak of the devil” she says, standing up out of her chair to greet the person behind me. “Got away from Aunt Jo somehow?”

Then I hear Spencer’s voice, “Just about” he chuckles, and I turn to look at him. He smiles down at me, finally leaving my drink down on the table and placing a small kiss on my cheek.

“Have you seen Philip on your travels at all?” Margot asks him.

“Yeah actually, he’s over by the DJ booth. Trying to request some songs I think?” Spencer says it so innocent but Margot’s eyes blow wide.

“Christ! I’ve gotta go stop— my _husband!_ ” she says it with such giddy excitement, like she can’t wait to say it for the rest of her life, “Please excuse me”

— —

We sit next to each other for a few minutes, Spencer tells me who he’s talked to, all the new people he’s met before he asks me to dance. It takes a little convincing but he could probably convince me to do anything.

He’s still not great, but he manages to sway in time to the slow songs just right, his hands resting on my waist, mine wrapped around his neck as I look up at him.

“This really isn’t how I saw this whole thing going” I say, my mind wandering to that day at Garcia’s where she’d tricked us into agreeing to this whole ridiculous plan. That first Friday night at Spencer’s apartment back when we made each others blood boil.

“What do you mean?” his eyebrows knit together.

“I don’t know. Just this whole elaborate plan? Do you remember how much we wanted to kill each other at first?” I joke, but he shakes his head.

“How do you not know by now?” he almost stops moving when he speaks this time, and it’s my turn to look confused, “I’ve never wanted to kill you? Yeah I was intimidated by you, and really, really stupid when it came to expressing that. But I’ve always…” he stops himself from rambling, looking at my, still confused, expression.

“But— You— No! What were those little things you used to do to annoy me about then? Like how you’d take my mug in the mornings?” I shake my head and he cringes a little.

“Actually that’s so stupid” he’s almost scolding himself, his cheeks flushing, “I wasn’t trying to annoy you. That morning I made two cups of coffee. I wanted you to see your mug on my desk and come over to get it, then I was going to tell you I’d made the coffee for you. I should’ve just left the mug on your desk for you or something, but I wanted you to talk to me. It’s so unbelievably stupid in hindsight” his eyes are screwed shut by the time he’s finished talking and I can’t help but giggle.

I use my hands on the back off his neck and pull him down for a kiss, his eyes spring open when I pull away again.

“So what I’m hearing is that we’ve been idiots for years?”

— —

When we finally leave the wedding it’s disgustingly late in the evening. Spencer carries my heels for me as we leave, I’ll be okay in bare feet for the small walk. When we get to the elevator he leans against the wall as I slump against his chest.

“Y’know?” he says in his mischievous voice, “I still haven’t had sex in an elevator”

I groan into the fabric of his shirt and pull my face out of it slightly, “And it’s still not your lucky night pal” I mumble, and he just lets out a small laugh.

We stumble in the door to our hotel room exhausted. Spencer makes a bee-line straight for the bed, falling straight down onto it face first, letting out a low groan. I would move him but he looks so tired I decide to let him rest for a little bit while I get ready for bed.

Once I’ve taken off my makeup and gotten into my pajamas I take a seat on the edge of the bed, just as I’m about to wake Spencer up something catches my eye. He must’ve knocked his satchel off the bed when he threw himself on it, but the contents was spilled out all over the floor now.

I don’t really notice most of it, I only recognize a color. A small little lilac rectangle. I reach down to pull it up out of his bag and my suspicions are confirmed. It’s his notebook again.

I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help it, he never let me look at the notebook, like it was top secret. I knew it was just going to be notes about me but I was still curious, what did he think was important to make note of, and what was in there that he didn’t want me to see.

I crawl up the bed gently and sit amongst the pillows, keeping a close eye on Spencer next to me, hoping he’s still asleep, and I crack it open.

The entries start off innocuous enough and I start to feel silly that I thought there might be anything I didn’t already know in here. The first page is just a list divided into columns;

> _Likes: Horror Movies, Red Wine, Black Coffee, Back to the Future, Reeses_

> _Dislikes: Early Mornings, Sugar in Coffee,_

The list just goes on like that for a little while as he slowly added new information but as I flip through the pages the entries start to become a little longer, and more detailed;

> _I think she likes this particular blue mug, she likes to sit on the left hand side of the couch, she also likes to sleep on the left side of the bed (even when she’s alone in it). Hums to the music on the radio when she drives, doesn’t seem to notice?_

There’s a panicked looking note scratched into the bottom of that page;

> _Likes officer Jennings???_

I stifle a giggle as I read that one. He’d been so much more stressed about it than he was letting on. After a few more pages the format of the entires starts to change and it almost looks like a diary more than a notebook. One page has a little date written at the top of it and I recognize it right away, it was the day before my Mom’s birthday;

> _She fell asleep on my lap today, I didn’t want to move ever again_

That’s the whole entry, but there’s a similar one the next day;

> _She’s asleep beside me this time, and I can’t touch her again. I feel gross, I shouldn’t be having sex dreams about someone who doesn’t like me like that. Not while I’m in her bed, not when she trusts me and we’re just starting to actually get along._

That must be why we woke up so far apart that morning. I can’t believe he thought about me like that, before I even realized I felt the exact same way. My heart feels tight in my chest as I turn the page, but there’s no entry for a few days after that one. The days that I’d been avoiding him. Until there’s one, it’s another list, a list of pro’s and con’s with the heading:

> _Just Telling Her I Like Her Already:_

And I feel horrible because there’s more pro’s than con’s on the list but he still didn’t tell me. The date at the top of the page is the date that he came to my room and told me that I was his best friend, and that he was sorry. There’s a slew of smaller entries after that, there’s one from the night we kissed for the first time;

> _I’m fucked. I kissed her. I fucking kissed her. I’m so stupid, why would I do that to myself? Now that I know how do I ever forget?_

One thing I notice flicking through all of them is that the majority of them are time-stamped somewhere between 1-3am. But the next one was written at 4am. 4am the night that we slept together for the first time;

> _Likes: Champagne, that song that was playing in the club (find out the name!), having her hair pulled, kissing my neck, moaning_ **_loud_ ** _, digging her nails into my shoulders when she cums. I think I’m in love?_

That entry makes tears well up in my eyes, but I try my best to hold them back because I know what’s coming next. The entry for the following day is another list, 2 columns again;

> _Likes: -_

> _Dislikes: Spencer Reid_

I want to shut the notebook, throw it across the room. It makes my heart ache that he felt that way. That he’d been so excited just hours earlier and I’d ruined it. There’s no entry again until last Friday, the night I’d shown up at his door and found him scouring through this very notebook with tears in his eyes. But the entry is timestamped several hours after that;

> _She’s asleep beside me right now. I had no idea it was possible to feel this happy._

There’s another list below that, but it’s just one column;

> _Loves: Spencer Reid_

My heart feels like it’s about to burst in my chest, or maybe just melt completely. The man I love is such a sappy fool. But he’s mine, and I’m his. I’m about to place the notebook back where I found it when Spencer starts to sit up. His eyes opening just a fraction before they blow wide completely and he’s lunging at me. At the notebook in my hands.

“Oh my god! Don’t read that!” he snatches it from my grip, and mostly because my face is probably betraying me already I don’t bother trying to hide the truth.

“Too late” I sigh, and his eyes fall softly shut with what looks like embarrassment.

“If you want to break up with me right now, I understand” he jokes, and I burst out laughing, mostly thankful he wasn’t upset.

“Well if I’d have known I was getting involved with such a sappy romantic I may have reconsidered” I chuckle, and he breaks out in a bright smile until he’s screwing his eyes shut again, bringing his hands up to cover his face.

“God, this is so embarrassing, you were never supposed to see that” he says, but it’s just a little muffled by the way he holds hid head in his hands.

“Why is it in your satchel you dork?” I ask, reaching out to pull his hands away so that I can see his face, his expression softens again when he meets my eyes.

“I just like to— keep it with me? It’s like I’ve got you” he says it like it’s silly, as thought it’s not the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.

“I love you Spencer Reid” I chuckle, and it seems to ease him just a little.

In spite of the fact that we’re both so exhausted, something in me needs to feel close to him.

With a renewed sense of energy I lean in to kiss him again, deeper this time, my mouth opening on his, our tongues moving in sync. Before I can even start to undo his buttons he’s already on it. Shrugging out of his suit jacket and throwing it on the floor, I’m pulling off his bow tie while he undoes the buttons on his dress shirt so my hands can snake inside and touch his bare chest.

Our mouths only break apart when they absolutely have to, so that I can take my nightdress off over my head, or when Spencer has to stand up to get out of his trousers.

We’re both wide awake again by the time we’re in our underwear on the bed, his hands roam all over my body, pulling, squeezing, his nails digging in occasionally. When his mouth isn’t pressed firmly against my own it’s only so that it can leave gentle kisses along the column of my throat or on the tops of my breasts while I moan beneath him.

I can already feel the heat pooling between my legs when he pulls down the cups of my bra, littering my exposed breasts with soft kisses, taking one of my nipples in my mouth to suck on it ever so slightly while gripping the other in his hand, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure.

“Spencer” I whine out, “I need you” it comes out as a breathy, desperate pant more than anything else. So he moves back up my body, kissing my neck, my jaw my cheeks, one of his hands coming down to cup between my legs, one of his fingers lingering on the damp cotton of my panties.

“Someone’s excited” he chuckles against my ear, his fingertip teasing me over the fabric.

“I want you so bad Spencer, need you inside me” I whimper this time as he presses right up against my swollen clit.

“Anything for you” he hums, pushing the fabric to the side and sinking two fingers into me in one slow thrust, curling them up once they were fully inside. I can’t help the way my back arches up off the bed, gasping at the sudden stretch, the warmth that spread around my whole body almost instantly.

“Fuck Spencer!” I moan, I can feel the way my chest heaves as I take in deep, unsteady breaths as his fingers work in and out of me.

“You’re soaking wet Love” he whispers right into my ear, planting a small warm kiss right below it, “I love how wet you get for me baby, how much you want it”

I moan again at that, and the way his thumb brushes right up against my clit as he speaks.

“Fuck— Ah! Spencer, I want—uh, you!” I moan out, teetering on the edge, “Want to cum with you” I manage to bring my hands down to stop him, gripping his wrist softly and his fingers stop moving inside of me, pulling out slowly.

He places them in his mouth, just like he’d done that morning, tasting me. But this time he leans in and presses a firm kiss on my lips, gently parting them so that he can slip his tongue inside, molding it against my own so that I can taste myself too.

When his hands come down to cup my breasts again they tug at the straps of my bra this time, so I lift my back off the bed a bit so that he can unhook it and take it off completely. His eyes widen at the sight and his hands are on them immediately. There’s something almost funny about the way he never seems to tire of my body, he always looks at me with the exact same intensity and excitement as he did that night in Vegas.

After a few more minutes of heated kissing and wandering hands, his fingers hook into the elastic either side of my hips pulling my panties down and off my legs, and tossing them off the side of the bed.

When I reach for the waistband of his briefs he pulls them off too, leaving the both of us entirely exposed to each other. And it’s so much more comfortable than I’ve felt with anyone before.

“Please Spencer” I whine, growing more and more restless by the second, he just lets out a small laugh.

“So impatient tonight Love” he takes the time to bring his fingers down in-between my legs again, teasingly running them through my folds this time, toying with me as one of them delicately circles my entrance, over and over.

“What if I just stayed like this?” he teases, “Just so close.” I can’t help but moan a little at the thought, “Or maybe I could just do this?” he says, pushing one of his fingers inside again, curling it upwards, pushing it in and out agonizingly slowly.

“Just playing with you” he breathes, “maybe I won’t let you cum?” I shake my head then, desperate and pleading.

“Please” I whimper, and I can see the mischievous little smile he pulls.

“If you really want it?” he asks and I nod, my eyes screwing shut, I can feel the way the sweat is gathering on my forehead and chest with the frustration, “Okay then”

As he speaks he pulls one finger out and pushes two in in it’s place. He starts off slow and deliberate but builds to a borderline furious pace, curling them up against my walls as he works them in and out. Bringing me right to the edge again, but this time I don’t stop him.

“I’m so close” I moan as he continues to work in and out of me and a moment later I’m there, shaking and squirming as his other hand holds my hips down, “Fuck! Spencer!”

“That’s it baby, cum for me” he whispers as his fingers start to slow down, pulling them out again.

“I wanted _you_ Spencer” is all I can think to say once my breathing steadies again.

“So ungrateful” he teases, “Are you trying to tell me you don’t still want me?” he jokes and I shake your head immediately.

“No! Please!” I know I sound desperate and I don’t even care anymore.

He gives me a few moments to come down and relax again before he climbs in top of me, nudging my legs apart so that he can nestle in between them. He takes his cock in his hand, it looks painfully hard at this point, flushed and leaking from the tip.

He grips it in his hand, guiding it between my legs before running the head of it through my folds, I let out a tiny gasp each time it brushes against my still sensitive clit.

“You ready for me Love?” he asks, looking down at me with what could only be described as adoration and I nod up at him, returning the gesture.

Then he’s pushing into me. The way he stretches me out doesn’t even compare to his fingers. He’s thick and long, and the head of his cock hits up against places inside of me I almost didn’t even know were there. He pushes the whole way into me in one deep thrust, slow and calculated, and then he stops there for a moment, savoring the feeling.

“You feel so good Love, always so tight and wet for me” he moans, and I clench around him involuntarily forcing a small groan from him again. “Already so eager after you just came, _fuck_ I love you”

I would return the sentiment but I can barely speak once he starts moving, I was already sensitive but I didn’t think I’d be this close this quickly. All I can manage right now are shaky breaths and pathetic little moans as he thrusts in and out of me. Instead I relish in the sounds he makes, concentrating on his own unsteady pants, the tiny little whispers of my name that he lets out right against my ear.

I know he’s only just getting going but I’m dangerously close already. My nails dig into this shoulders, gripping him tight enough that it probably hurts. That was probably the tip off as his head comes out from where it was buried in the crook of my neck.

“Are you gonna cum for me again Love?” he asks and I nod with a little moan.

“Uh huh— I’m so— fuck!— sensitive” I cry out, but he doesn't let up and I’m cumming around him again, my nails scratching his back in an effort to let out any tension at all. Once I’m done he doesn’t stop, he slows down a little but we both know he’s not done.

“That’s it baby, you’re doing so good for me” he groans as his hips start to speed up again. Working in and out of me, his hips slamming into me over and over.

For a moment I thought I might have to give in, tell him to pull out and just cum on me instead, but before I knew it I was close again, but this time so was he.

“I’m—fuck— close Love!” he groans, hips starting to loose their rhythm, “Where do you want it?”

“Inside me Spence, fuck”, it takes so much energy to find the words and force them out, they’re barely a whisper, I can feel how hoarse my voice must sound.

Just as his hips start to slow, pumping in and out of me, I’m cumming again. This time it’s coupled with the feeling of Spencer, spilling deep inside of me filling me up so completely. I barely have the energy to make a sound.

I didn’t realize I was crying until Spencer wiped a tear off of my cheek, leaning down to place a gentle kiss right where it had just been.

“You’re doing so good for me baby, you look so pretty right now” he coos, pulling out slowly, but I’m so sensitive, even _that_ feels like stimulation and wince a little.

“That’s it” he says, laying down on his side next to me, one hand propping up his head, the other resting low in my stomach, fingers trailing small circles around it.

“Fuck Spencer” I say in a weak gasp, “I’m so tired” I would laugh a little if I wasn’t so exhausted.

Then his hand moves again, trailing further and further down until it’s between my legs. It ghosts over my entrance, feeling the way his cum is just beginning to drip out of me. His fingers start off slow, just teasing, moving so gently around. Gathering his cum and spreading it around my folds, every so often brushing against my clit and making me gasp.

I’m not fully sure what he’s doing until he speaks again.

“Can you give me another Love, you’re doing so good for me?” I know it’s probably not a good idea but I want to give Spencer anything he wants.

“I don’t know” I whimper, “I can try”

“Good girl” he smiles, leaning in close to place a kiss on my cheek, right where another tear has slipped out from the overstimulation.

Once I’ve given him an answer his fingers start to move yet again. Gathering his cum as it slips out from between my legs and pushing it back inside, as deep as his fingers can get it.

“You want my cum inside you?” he asks, working his fingers in and out of me and I nod. Something about it feels a little possessive almost, but I like it.

“Uh huh”

“Good, ‘cause this pussy belongs to me, you know that?” I nod again, the emotions and the overstimulation forcing more and more tears out as I grew closer. Spencer just comes down to wipe them away with his tongue, leaving small kisses on my wet cheeks.

“You look so fuckin’ beautiful when you cum” he moans, “You close Love?” he knew I was, the way I was arching up off the bed, squirming around him as my hands grabbed at the sheets.

“No one else could make you feel this good” he whispers as his thumb comes down to brush against my clit, and that’s it.

I break completely, any remaining energy I had leaves my body as I unravel for the fourth time that night. Spencer doesn’t push it then, taking his fingers out slowly and carefully. He’s gone a second later, returning with a washcloth to clean me up. I must look pathetic, bloodshot eyes, tearstained cheeks, completely coated in a fine layer of sweat.

Spencer on the other hand looks beautiful. The sweat makes him look like he’s glowing, his hair is the exact perfect kind of messy, and his cheeks are flushed the most adorable shade of pink. I know I’ve got no energy but when he climbs into bed and turns to face me I’ve got a sudden burst of adrenaline. So I lean in and place a chaste kiss on his soft lips, they turn up in a smile once I pull away.

“I still can’t believe this isn’t a dream” he says as his eyes take me in, his arm draping over my waist.

“We’ll we’re not in my childhood bed so that’s a start” I’m not sure exactly why but I make a joke, poking fun at his journal entry from earlier, he laughs but shoves me gently before pulling me back in, closer this time so that I’m snuggled up against him.

“That was supposed to be private you know” he says playfully. I deliberate on it for a second before I speak.

“I had a sex dream about you that night too” he pulls back a little, his head turning so that he can look down at me, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“You did?!” I laugh at his shock

“Yup, that’s why I was so weird with you that whole week” his face falls a little before he’s visibly cringing.

“God! We’re stupid” he shakes his head but his lips turn up in a smile again, and I’m smiling up at him too.

“We’re stupid but we love each other”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your support and your unbelievably sweet comments, you've all made this story an absolute joy to write! I've got no idea what I'm going to do next week when I don't have a chapter to upload :'(

**Author's Note:**

> You can check out my work at https://differentkettleoffishalltogether.tumblr.com/post/633911628427067392/masterlist
> 
> I'm posting this story week to week over there too. 
> 
> Any comments are always appreciated <3


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